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^UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, pv 

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Isaac W. Ambler. 



TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION.' 



THE LIFE 



OP 



SERGEANT I. W. AMBLER, 



EMBRACING 



HIS NATIVITY, POVERTY, AND TOIL WHEN BUT A CHILD IN THE COAL- 
MINES OF ENGLAND ; HIS CONNECTION WITH THE BRITISH ARMY, SUF- 
FERINGS AND DISSIPATION ; HIS ESCAPE TO THE UNITED STATES, 
AND DISSIPATION CONTINUED; HIS CONVERSION IN NEW- 
BURYPORT, MASS., UNDER THE LABORS OF REV. DANIEL 
PIKE ; HIS LABORS IN THE CAUSE OF TEMPERANCE 
AND AS CITY MISSIONARY IN BLDDEFORD, ME. J 
AND EFFORTS, SACRIFICES, AND SUFFER- 
INGS FOR HIS ADOPTED COUNTRY DUR- 
ING THE LATE GREAT REBELLION. 



THE WHOLE ILLUSTBATINO THE FACT WITH WHICH WE STAET, THAT *TBUTH IS 

STEANGKK THAN FICTION,* AND MUCH MOEE HEALTHY FOB THE 

MOBALS OF THE PEOPLE. 



telfa Illustrations. 



BOSTON: 

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS 
NEW YORK: 

LEE, SHEPARD & DILLINGHAM. 






3881 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 

ISAAC W. AMBLER, 
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



PORTLAND! 

B. THURSTON & CO., STEREOTYPERS AND PRINTERS. 



PREFACE 



This book is dedicated to the public with two objects in view 
one is, to lead hardened sinners, poor drunken men, to Christ; 
the other is, to get bread for myself and family in my crippled 
condition. 

We think the above is all the preface that is necessary in giving 
this book to the public, and we publish it in the fullest conviction 
that while it may interest and help while away many a lonely hour, 
at the same time it will not fail to improve the heart and mind of 
its readers, making them better patriots and more practical Chris- 
tians, and will shed a ray of light on the pathway of some now 
hopeless wanderer, who will see that if there is hope for the 
chief est of sinners, like me, there is also salvation for him, if he 
will only look to God for help. 

I. W. Ambler. 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGE 

Portrait, i 

Going to alms-house, 16 

I Runaways selling cap, 24 £ */■ 

In the mines, 32 

V Prisoners going to Pomfret, 48 

• Whipping a soldier, 64 

First meeting with wife, 104 

' Escape from Indians, 112 

' Speech from Old State-house, 176 

Drilling cayalry, 184 

' sunstruck at chain bridge, i92 

/ Drilling infantry—bayonet exercise, . . . # . . . 208 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTEE I. 

Birth— Mother's death— The Bailiff— Going to the poor-house— Dream 
in the poor-house 13 



CHAPTEE II. 
Scolding mistress— Fainting 18 

CHAPTER III. 

Deliverance from the poor-house— With my grandparents again— Work 
in the coal-mines — Abused by the overseer — My first drunk — Con- 
fession, to grandmother 21 

CHAPTER IY. 

Great fright — Hard times— Dangers in the pit— Religion in the pit — 
Condition of the workmen — Girls in the mines — Terrible accident — 
Grandmother's blessing 27 

CHAPTER Y. 

Change of masters — Explosion in the mines — Narrow escape from the 
fire damp— Saving my employer — Death of my grandfather — Strange 

custom at funerals 35 

(7) 



viii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Abused by my employer — Still abused, now by my uncle — The banditti 
— Uncle frightened out of his house — Terrible explosion — Death of 
my grandmother — Breaking my wrist — Experience with the doctors 
— Humbug continued — Getting wrist set 41 

CHAPTER VII. 

Trouble with the muff— In prison— Sighing for liberty — Awful dream 
— Taken from prison — Trial and acquittal — All my cakes gone. . . .51 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Begging my way home — Meeting rebuffs — The soldier's wife's pity — 
Begging still for bread — The motherly heart— Explosion and narrow 
escape . .58 

CHAPTER IX. 

Enlisting and rejectment— Four of us running off— Enlisting while 
drunk — Sworn in — Getting our heads shaved — How to divide the 
soup 64 

CHAPTER X. 

Flogging by the pulpit — How whipping is done — How the corporal 
caught it — An awful death — The sad parting — Sailing for the Med- 
iterranean—Stealing from the hogs 70 

CHAPTER XI. 

Getting into Corfu — Climate and sickness — The doctor's murder — Girls 
visiting the prison — Robbing the old Jew— Hiding the money — Irish 
corporal « 77 

CHAPTER XII. 

Burying a man alive— The murderer caught— How Tim caught a ghost 
— Sick comrade — From Corfu to Malta— Rows with the Maltese — 
You are a dead man ' 84 



CONTENTS. i x 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Sick at Malta — Attempted suicide — Promotion and its dangers — Arrest 
and a fight — Waking up and the trial— Joke on the police-sergeant. .91 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Cooking the goose— Eeason more potent than blows — Safety where 
there is prayer — The attack on the road — The smash up — On a 
lark 97 



CHAPTER XY. 

Fastened to the prisoner — The attempted escape — A comical position 
on guard — Getting fast in the grates 103 



CHAPTER XYI. 

A deserter's strategy — Bravery honored by the Queen — First interview 
with my wife — Row with the servant — The Orangemen — Attempt to 
burn a Catholic church— Secured a friend 107 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Separating the belligerents — Why I resolved to desert — The kidnapper 
getting whipped — Showing them a trick 114 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

How I got married— Hiding in the woods — Narrow escape— Getting 
away from the Indians — Reaching the States — General soliloquy . .118 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Getting posted — Getting to work — Setting up house-keeping — Rum and 
wretchedness— Caught on the Admiral 124 

CHAPTER XX. 

following a loom to Biddeford — The runaway pigs — Drinking up the 
pigs— Old Sellings' horse— The ride to the depot— Robbing the 
overseer 129 



x CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Getting better liquor — The custard man — Getting into a fight — Hunting 
for another chance — Wanted to go up — Wife mistrusted me 135 

CHAPTER XXII. • 

A set-to with sticks — Drinking the fluid — Getting into another muss — 
Wife's patience exhausted — Longing to break my fetters — Crockery- 
going for rum — Wife leaving me — Degraded and hopeless — Saving a 
woman from being murdered — Getting a cold duck 141 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Struck under conviction — Rising for prayers — Finding peace while 
praying — All things become new — Trying to read the Bible 151 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Joining the Church — Revival breaking out — My first trial — A literal in- 
terpretation — Church admonition — My heart drawn out for others — 
In my element — How I worked it — A hard case reached — All right 
now 156 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Breaking up a rum-shop — Pounding temperance into a rumseller — 
Don't advise all to do so — One or two missionary incidents — Affidavit 
— The poor family blessed — Spilling the rum — Marching with the 
Sunday school 166 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Leaving the mission for the drill-room — Testimonials — The use of them 
— Speech at the State-house — Rushing matters in the drill — Letters 
of commendation— British drill-clubs— Paper squibs 174 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Going to Camp Preble — The parting scene at the depot — Poisoning at 
Havre-de-grace— Scenes connected with Bull Run— Throwing tlfe 
plank off Chain bridge — Sport with the chaplain — The scriptural ex- 
cuse—Skirmish with the enemy 182 



CONTENTS. x j 

CHAPTER XXYIII. 

The first prayer-meeting— Second meeting better still— A hard sight — 
Catching the spy — getting sun-struck — Burning the woods — A little 
self-adulation— Capt. Strong's escape— Scott sentenced to be shot — 
Pardoned by President Lincoln — Ode on Scott — How his pardon was 
obtained 190 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Going back to Maine — A pass from Scott— Why I did not go back — At 
work drilling — The exhibition — The description — General Dow's let- 
ter — Breaking my wrist — Getting another wound — At Galloup's 
Island — Sober reflections — Surgeon's certificate 204 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Famine in my purse— Sympathy for comrades — A sad story — Kelly's 
wife's statement— Wm. Kelly's death— Hard raising money — Getting 
names to petition— Petition to Congress — Testimonials — A paper 
puff 216 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Charge on Washington — Staving things off— Broker's proposal — A little 
dodge — Letters — Purpose to stick — Getting into a Catholic hospital 
— Criticising Solomon — Getting my back up — Meeting in Washington 
— What the paper said — My great speech — Driving a bargain — My 
excuse 231 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

Getting some comfort — Battle with the devil — Fighting it out — Fight- 
ing by proxy — A brave countryman— His death— A well-drilled pupil 
— The glorious Sixth Maine — Terrible slaughter — Gen. Burnham's 
account— Gen. Burnham's gallantry — Gen. Burnham's death — Fruits 
of good drilling— How I was justified— Heroism — Soldier's letter — 
The lessons of war 246 



x ii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Job's turkey— Anecdote of Fisk— Interview with Fisk— The poor 
helped — Providence helps — Head wind again — Summons to Court — 
The trial — Talk with the lawyer — A mean dun — Privations of the 
poor — Way to do good — Moneyless man — Others think as I do — My 
experience — Christian workers 268 



CHAPTER XXXIY. 
Seemon on the Lost Sheep — Conclusion 288 

Appendix 313 



LIFE OF ISAAC ¥. AMBLEK. 



CHAPTER I. 

I was bom in Littlemore, Yorkshire County, England, in 
the year 1825 or 1826. The exact date of my birth I never 
knew. 

My father was a smart, active, and industrious man, naturally 
quick-tempered, but soon reconciled. He was by trade a 
weaver. He was a kind father and an affectionate husband. 
My mother was a quiet, humble Christian, one who adorned 
the doctrines of our Lord and Saviour by a well-ordered life and 
conversation. I can remember when a child how she would 
place her hand upon my head and bless me. I was the only 
ehild. When three years old my father moved to a house near 
the JSTew Dolphin. My grandparents lived near the Old Dol- 
phin, with whom lived my uncle William. He had three sons 
and a daughter. Soon after my parents moved to the New 
Dolphin, my mother took me to see my grandparents. She 
carried me in her arms, and when returning home, in crossing 
a neighbor's field, she was frightened by a bull. My mother 
had on a red shawl, which caught his gaze, and, bellowing with 
rage, he gave chase ; mother threw me into a thorn hedge, and 
started at a swift pace towards a stone-wall, which she reached 
just as the breath of the animal could have been heard behind 
her. In her haste to get over the wall she slipped and fell over, 
severely bruising her. She soon arose, and by a circuitous 
route came limping round where I was in the hedge, and took 
me in her arms, and with difficulty reached home. She never 



14 MOTHER'S DEATH. 

recovered from the effects of her bruises, but had to take her 
bed, from which she never arose. During her sickness, I was 
one night called to her bedside, and she put her hands upon my 
head and blessed me, gave me to God, and then breathed her 
last. Thus was I early deprived of a mother, whose gentle 
admonitions and humble prayers I shall never hear again. 
How-thankful should I be that God, who is faithful to his peo- 
ple, has heard the prayers of my mother, though offered many 
years ago, and that in New England, far from my native home, 
he has sent his Holy Spirit to convince me of sin, of righteous- 
ness, and of judgment, and that through his help I have com- 
menced a new life. How true are the words in the Scriptures, 
that c the prayers of the righteous availeth much.' 

My father belonged to a club, and it was the custom when 
one of their number, or family died, for all to attend the funeral 
services. On this occasion they had to go some three miles to 
the burial-ground ; four men carried the corpse on their shoul- 
ders. When they came to Queen's Head, about one mile from 
home, they blew their trumpets,* and I remember of looking 
up to my father and saying, ' Father, mother is crying.' When 
we had gone about one mile from Queen's Head, I was crying 
so hard that my father told me to go to my grandparents, 
about one mile distant. I went a short distance, and sat down 
beside the road, when a stranger came along and took me into 
his carriage and carried me to my grandparents, and soon after 
I went home to my father's. A few weeks after my mother's 
death, my father took it so much to heart, as he worshipped my 
mother, and as his fireside seemed dreary, the chief attraction 
being gone, that he took to drink ; and this led to gambling, 
and he passed much of his time in the ale-houses, neglecting 
his work, and running in debt. I remember one day of going 
to a neighbor's house, and he, knowing my father was a drink- 
ing man, abused me and told me to go home about my business. 
I went home crying, and told father, who was quite angry with 

* A custom in country places at that time, when passing houses, to blow trumpets. 



THE BAILIFF. 15 

him and went immediately to see what he meant by abusing 
me ; arriving there, he commenced to talk with the man, and 
they soon came to hard words, and then to fighting. Father 
was a very strong man, and he seized him and threw him over 
his head, nearly killing him. Father, as I have said before, was 
in debt, and the bailiffs came for his goods, and as the doors 
were fastened they went away, but soon returned with a sledge, 
and broke open the doors and entered. Father took me with 
him into an upper chamber and locked the door. The bailiffs 
took all the things below, excepting some straw which they left 
for us to sleep on, and carried them away. This was in the cold 
season, and I suffered much, not having enough to eat, and 
staying at home many nights alone. My father, having yet some 
feeling left, took me to my grandparents, and told them that 
he would pay one-half a crown per week for my support ; they 
agreed to keep me, and he went away to Halifax, four miles 
distant, to work in the mills, weaving. He came to my grand- 
parents' to see me the two Saturday nights following, and the 
last night he came, called me up, as I was then in bed, and gave 
me three half-pence, and kissed me and left ; and from that 
time I have never seen nor heard from him. 

Now, truly, I was all alone, — my mother dead, my father the 
same as dead to me, without sister or brother, and dependent 
on charity. My grandfather was very poor, a shuttle-maker by 
trade. Both grandparents were pious, and members of the 
Wesleyan Methodist Church, and lived up to their profession. 
I was now about five years old. My grandparents sent me to 
school a short time, but money was scarce, and as they could 
not pay my tuition, they took me from school and set me to 
work winding bobbins for weaving. After working at this 
about two years, my grandparents taught me to weave, and be- 
ing too short to reach the looms, I was compelled to wear a 
pair of wooden clogs some two inches thick to reach the 
treadles. Business soon become dull, and we were left without 
work. My grandfather went to the overseers of the poor, 



16 GOING TO THE POOR-HOUSE. 

to ascertain if they would assist in my support; but they 
would not assist any one away from the poor-house. Shortly 
after this, my grandmother asked me if I should like to go to 
Clayton, two miles distant ; she said she would buy me some 
candy. I went, not expecting that she would take me to the 
poor-house ; but poverty, to what straits will it not drive the 
jnost exemplary? When the pangs of hunger were driving 
them to desperation, she could not bear to tell me that she was 
going to take me to the poor-house. My grandmother, after 
she arrived at the poor-house, talked with a woman at the door 
a short time; then this woman took me under her arm, and 
while I kicked and screamed she earned me into the house. I 
ran out into a back yard where there was quite a garden spot that 
had a fence some ten feet high around it. I climbed up this 
fence, and got caught so that I could neither get up nor down. 
The woman came and took me down, and carried me into a 
room where there were a number of women and children, who 
stared rudely at me. 

Here I was, a stranger. None knew me, and I knew none 
of them, and turning from their earnest gaze, I shrunk away 
into one corner of the room, and, covering my face with my 
hands, I wept bitterly. I cried until dinner was served up, 
which consisted of coarse porridge, and which I could not eat, 
as I could not subdue my tears nor stop the throbbing of my 
heart. In this way I remained until supper, when the mistress 
kindly brought me a piece of bread and molasses, a part of 
which I managed to eat ; after that a big, brawny fellow took 
me to an upper chamber, where among quite a number of beds 
I was stowed away in one corner of the room upon a small cot' 
Thus left, I sunk into an uneasy slumber; thoughts of my early 
home and of my mother came upon me ; I thought that I again 
stood by my mother's bed, and, with her hands upon my head, she 
blessed me as she did the night she died. These words, c God 
bless and preserve the poor orphan,' seemed to ring in my ears, 
and bursting into tears, I awoke, and pulling the clothes over 



DEE AM W THE POOR-HOUSE. 17 

my head, I again sobbed myself into a broken slumber. Again, 
I dreamed of home and of my grandmother ; I thought I knelt 
by her side and repeated my evening prayer; again, my father 
seemed to stand by my bedside, as on the night he left me ; I 
seemed to feel his burning kiss upon my cheek, and awoke to 
find myself an inmate of the poor-house. I could not sleep, — 
the hours passed slowly away, — every striking of the clock I 
heard, — how glad I was when the first ray of morning light 
found its way through the humble window. I hailed the bright 
messenger and welcomed his first coming to break the long, 
long darkness of the night. Ye, who sleep on beds of down; 
ye, who pass the hours of night in pleasure and revelry, and 
would stay the morning light, think of the poor orphan ; and 
may God, in his goodness and mercy, ever keep you from the 
miseries of the poor-house. 

2 



18 SCOLDING MISTRESS. 



CHAPTER II. 

With the first dawn of light I fell asleep ; how long I slept 
I knew not, but was awakened by the harsh tones of the mis- 
tress, who rudely shook me by the arm, and said : 

1 Come, sir, is this the way you want to spend your time ? ' 

I hardly dared to gaze into her face, but answered that I had 
not slept until daylight. 

'Well,' said she, ' we sleep here by night and work by day, 
and we allow no breaking of these rules. Now dress yourself 
and come down to breakfest.' 

I dressed as quick possible, and hurried down. The room 
into which I went was a long one, and in the middle of it was 
a table reaching nearly the whole length, around which about 
fifty persons were seated. I seated myself beside a bright, 
pretty girl, about fourteen years of age, and while the others 
made some coarse remarks about me, this girl kindly moved my 
chair for me to sit by her side. As I sat down, the whole com- 
pany stared at me, and as I thought how different from the lit- 
tle table that we, seated ourselves around at my grandmother's, 
tears filled my eyes, which caught the gaze of my mistress, and 
she said, ' Come, we want no babies here, and you'll find we 
don't allow any baby whims. Now stop your crying, or go up- 
stairs.' 

Stop my crying ! As well she might have told the waves to 
stop their dashing upon the seashore, or stop the rays of the 
sunlight. I sprang from the table and ! ran up-stairs to my 
room. 

The shades of night were drawing around, and as I looked 
from the window and heard the wind rustle through the trees, 
how sad the sound to me ; that which was music sweet to me at 
other times, now filled my soul with sorr6w, and it seemed to 



ANOTHER VICTIM. 19 

be the very echoing of ray sad heart. But I gazed beyond, and 
as I looked up to the bright heavens and saw the evening stars 
twinkle, and the moon shedding forth her rays of light, and as 
the darkness increased and the shadows of the trees appeared, 
stretching forth their huge limbs along the dusty way, I was 
startled by the cry of the blackbird. What shrill tones they 
were ! They thrilled in my ear like that sound which I never 
shall forget, the trumpet tones that were blown at my moth- 
er's funeral. I thought when the trumpet was blown, of the 
loss of my mother, and now this seemed to remind me of the 
loss of my father. As I looked out I heard the rumbling of 
wheels, and immediately a carriage came swiftly up to the door, 
and a man alighted and took a child from the carriage. I heard 
the treading of feet below, and the distant tones of my mis- 
tress's voice, and. then the reply of a man. I saw the carriage 
turn and hasten away. Another one, I thought, has come to 
crowd the already over-filled poor-house. I leaned on the win- 
dow-sill and wept. I then went and knelt down in one corner 
of the room, and with upturned eves I repeated my evening 
prayer, and prayed that God would take me home to Him, 
where my poor mother was. I then arose and went back to the 
window, and leaned against the window-sill. Sleep came over 
me. How long I slept I know not ; but when I awoke the sun- 
light filled the chamber. I remembered of going to sleep at 
the window, but I was now in my little ^ot, my clothes were off, 
and I inwardly blessed the one who had cared for the poor or- 
phan. While musing, a girl came to my side, the one I sat be- 
side at the table. She said, 'Do you remember where you went 
to sleep last night ? ' I told her it was by the window, I thought. 
She said, ' My -mistress came up with me last night, and seeing 
you at the window, she said, "Dirty boy, let him stay there." 
But after mistress was gone, I carried you to your cot.' I 
thank you, I said, and could say no more. I felt happy to know 
that there was one that felt and cared for the poor orphan. But 
while talking with her I heard my mistress calling me to come 
down. I got up and dressed myself, and went down and found 



20 FAINTING. 

that the breakfast was cleared away, but the mistress gave me 
a cracker with a mug of water. The cracker I ate, but I felt 
weak, and I plead with her to send for my grandmother to 
come and take me home. But she paid no attention to my re- 
quest, and I found it availed me nothing to plead with her. I 
felt the tears trickling down my cheeks, my head grew dizzy, 
and I fell senseless to the floor. When I came to myself, I was 
in my little cot, and watching at my side was the girl who had 
been so kind to me. I tried to rise, but fell back exhausted on 
the bed and closed my eyes to sleep. What dreams I had! In 
my imagination I was carried to a fairy land ; it seemed as if 
thousands were gathered before me, and sweet music fell like 
the faint murmur of rippling brooks, and then in prolonged and 
swelling notes it seemed to break forth in such delightful strains 
that my soul was in ecstasy. I looked around on this vast as- 
sembly, and near me I beheld my mother. She looked at me, 
and an angelic smile seemed to light up her face, as she beck- 
oned me to approach her. I hastened on ; and as I neared her, 
stretched forth my hand to grasp hers. A few more steps and 
I should take her by the hand. But before me was a deep, 
dark chasm, into which I had almost plunged. I looked down 
this dark abyss, and could see no bottom. I raised my eyes, 
and the scene had changed ; dark forests of trees were all 
around me; clouds seemed gathering over my head, and I turned 
and hurried from the place ; but dark, black clouds were hasten- 
ing after me ; I turned to look behind, when a vivid, flash of 
lightning, that blinded me for an instant, accompanied with a 
startling crash of thunder that rocked the trees, and seemed to 
rend the earth asunder, struck a huge tree at my side. A 
bright ball of fire struck the top, and scattering the limbs 
around, sunk deep in the earth at my feet. It awakened me ; 
my lips were parched, my flesh hot ; some water was at my 
side, I eagerly drank it down, and again I slept until morning 
dawned. When I awoke with what joy 1 learned that they had 
sent for my grandmother to come and take me home, thinking 
that unless they did, I should worry myself to death. 



DELIVERANCE FROM THE POOR-HOUSE. 21 



CHAPTER III. 

How happy I felt, and how quickly I dressed myself and 
ran down to wait her coming to take me home. Looking out 
of the window to catch the first glimpse of my grandmother, 
how my heart beat as I saw her coming. I could not wait, but 
seizing my cap, I hurried from the room and ran down the road 
to meet her. When I reached her I threw myself into her 
arms and wept tears of joy. She was so overcome that she sat 
down beside the road and wept freely, and kissing me she said, 
'If I have only one meal a day, thee shall have one-half of it, 
Isaac' I felt so happy that I laughed and wept by turns, and 
I told her I would do anything for her if she would never send 
me to the poor-house again. She said she never would ; and 
arising from the ground, we turned our backs upon the poor- 
house, and started for home. All my wardrobe I had was on 
ray back, and as we went toward home how happy I felt, every- 
thing looked beautiful around me. The sun was shining bright- 
ly, and the earth was clothed in green ; the fragrance of the 
blossoms was w r afted on every breeze; my troubles were all 
forgotten ; my poverty was at once changed into riches, for as 
I looked on the broad face of Nature, I thought, the sun is 
shining for me, the birds are singing for me, the sweet scent of 
roses was wafted on every breeze to me, and can I not enjoy 
the beauties of God's creation as highly as the person who can 
command his millions ? For although his money is at his com- 
mand, yet not the whole of it can stop the singing of the birds 
for me, or the rays of the sun shining for me, or blot out one of 
the thousands of stars that illuminate the heavens. Then am 
I not happy to be thus situated, — having wealth that cannot be 
counted, — riches that cannot be estimated conferred daily upon 



22 WITH MY GRANDPARENTS AGAIN. 

me? And as these thoughts rushed through my mind, how 
happy I felt. I would run some distance before my grand- 
mother, until she would be just visible behind me, and then sit 
down beside the road to wait for her. When we arrived home 
I was set to weaving again : but business became dull, and we 
had very little to do, and I remember of hearing many prayers 
offered up to the Throne of Grace, that God would send them 
some work, that they might get some money to buy their daily 
bread, and often some little jobs would come, and thus we 
were kept along. 

About this time a new kind of hand-loom, called the l Jac- 
quard' loom, was introduced for weaving. My grandfather 
took the job of boring the ' cumbei'-boards ' (they were full of 
holes for the harness to pass through), and I used to tread the 
lathe to help bore them, which was very hard work for so small 
a boy, and I used to drip with sweat. My grandfather saved 
up some money by this job, but my grandmother was taken 
sick shortly after, and it took all the money he had saved to 
pay the expenses of her sickness, and thus we were left desti- 
tute again. But they trusted in God and prayed still, and in 
this condition we lived, getting just enough to keep us alive. 
One morning I overheard my grandfather say to my grand- 
mother, that I should have to go to the poor-house again. On 
hearing this, I hardly knew what to do. The very thought 
made me sick. I thought of the coal-mines, — could I get work 
there? I was small, but boys worked in the mines as small as 
I was. I will try, I said to myself, and I ran out of the house 
and went to one of the coal-mines that was about a mile dis- 
tant, and I hired out with a collier for six shillings and six 
pence per week. I then went back and told my grandparents 
what I had done ; they consented for me to go to work the 
next morning. The coal-mines are the last resort to obtain a 
living, and no parents will let their children! go into the mines 
if they can otherwise support them. Children, when very 
small, can get work in the mines when they could not at any 
other place. I went to work in the coal-pit. 



WORK IN THE COAL MINES. 23 

/ 

In opening a coal-mine they first sink a shaft to the seam of 
coal, varying from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet 
deep. Often, in sinking a shaft, the loose dirt will fall in, and, 
to prevent this, the upper part of the shaft is walled around, 
sometimes this is done nearly the whole depth. These shafts 
are from ten to fifteen feet in diameter. Another difficulty that 
arises is, that veins of water are struck, which- immediately 
commence to fill up the shaft. This is excluded by lining the 
shaft with boards fastened to the sides, which is called tubbing. 
If the first shaft that is sunk proves successful, in most cases 
another is sunk about fifteen feet from it, and then at the bot- 
tom an opening is excavated to the other shaft; one of these is 
called the down cast and the other the up cast. The object is 
to get ventilation, the air descending the clown cast and as- 
cending the up cast. 

In this mine I had to take coal in what is called a scoop or 
a small corve. This corve in which I drew my loads of coal 
was an oblong wagon, with small iron wheels, running on a 
railway. The distance to the mouth of the pit was two hun- 
dred yards. The passage was about two feet high. This corve 
was fastened to me by a chain, passing between my legs and 
hooking into a staple in a broad, leather belt around my waist. 
To haul a loaded corve, with the rigging attached, requires 
practice. At first it was exceedingly tiresome, and I have often 
fallen flat on my face from exhaustion, but by constant effort 
and practice it became less laborious. This corve I would haul 
by going on ' all fours,' or upon my hands and feet, while the 
weight of my body would be supported by the chain passing 
between my legs. In hauling my corve in this manner, I wore 
the skin off my hands so badly that my grandfather/ made me 
two wooden crutches to hold in my hands, and by them I was 
enabled to continue work without so much pain, as the crutches 
kept my hands from the earth and sharp pieces of iron ore that 
were in the bottom of the passage. 

From the top of this pit to the bottom it was sixty feet. 



24 ABUSED BY THE OVERSEEB. 

This mine was worked on a cheap scale, no horses, no machin- 
ery of any kind, excepting a block and tackle to hoist the coal 
from the bottom of the pit. My corve I would haul to the 
mouth of the pit, where the ' banksman,' so called, as he stands 
at the top of the pit and hoists out the coal, would lower down 
a rope with an empty corve attached, which I would take off 
and then hook the rope to the loaded corve which the ' banks- 
man' would hoist to the top of the shaft. Sometimes the 
4 banksman' would hoist so slowly that I would have to wait 
some time for him to lower down the empty corve, and my em- 
ployer would throw large pieces of coal at me for being gone 
so long. Sometimes I have been struck so hard as to nearly 
knock me down. Then, again, I would hurry so fast with my 
corve to get back, that I have often struck my back against the 
ledge and bruised me so badly that the blood would trickle 
down at every step I took. The water in these mines was, in 
many places through which I hauled my load, six inches deep. 
Sometimes, striking the ledge, I have been thrown flat in the 
water, and I would pray that God would take me out of the 
world. 

I worked in these mines two or three months, abused by all 
around me. I worked in the lower passage; above me was a 
passage or chamber, and one morning this chamber sprung aleak, 
and the water soon filled the passage that I worked in, so that 
I was obliged to leave off work. I went home and told my 
grandparents, and they set me to weaving, I worked a few 
weeks, but as I did not earn enough to keep me, my grandpar- 
ents sent me to look up some work. I went about one mile 
from home, to another coal-mine, called 'hunting-pits,' old 
mines that had been worked many years before, and when left, 
the timber that supported the roof was knocked down, and the 
roof fell in, and considerable coal was in the passages. The 
work was to get the remainder of the coal. I hired here for 
eight shillings and sixpence per week. The colliers usually 
take their work by the job, and hire boys to work for them, 



MY FIRST DRUNK. 25 

and haul the coal out to the mouth of the pit, while they pick 
the coal out, which, of itself, requires practice and experience. 

The colliers settled with the boys at the end of every week, 
and my money I used to take home to grandmother, she 
giving me a ninepence a week for spending money. The col- 
liers were all hard drinkers, and very profane, especially the 
one I worked with. The keeper of the inn, where we used to 
settle, usually did a good business Saturday night ; for much 
of the money that was paid to the boys would be spent before 
they went home; many times my employer, after settling with 
me Saturday night, would spend the balance ol his money for 
drink, and then borrow of me. Since that time an act has been 
passed by Parliament, forbidding colliers paying off their help 
at taverns, under penalty of five to twenty pounds. The pass- 
ing of this act has done a great amount of good to the poorer 
classes, and restrained drinking to some considerable extent. 

One Saturday night the colliers had called for their help to 
go up to the tavern as usual, and settle. I, having worked 
hard that day and during the week, had pleased my employer 
so well, that he was bound to treat me ; and by strong persua- 
sions he induced me to drink with the rest of them, and by so 
doing I got intoxicated so that I had to stop at the tavern 
until late at night before I was able to go home. The scenes 
of that night are now before me, and I can easily trace much 
of the misery and sorrow which have followed me through a 
large part of my life, to the indulgences of that night. I 
started for home, and the first part of my journey my steps 
were irregular, but before T arrived home I was as sober as ever. 
My grandmother always sat up for me Saturday nights, and as 
I neared the house and saw the light burning in the window 
for me, my heart almost failed me ; but, mustering courage, at 
length I opened the door and entered. My grandmother was 
up and anxiously waiting for me. She met me at the door, and 
said, ' Isaac, I am afraid that thee has been drinking with the col- 
liers. I know that they all drink ; have they not enticed thee to 



26 CONFESSION TO GRANDMOTHER. 

drink?" I could never tell my grandmother a falsehood, and 
I, therefore, told her the whole story. She talked long with 
me that night, and how earnestly she prayed that I might be 
saved from the temptations that beset me on every side, and 
that I might be kept from going down to a drunkard's grave. 

How unhappy should I have felt if I had foreseen the evils 
that this act led me into. What great, and alas ! what fatal 
results followed that first glass. When asked to drink I knew 
the evils of it. I knew the consequences, yet I had not the 
moral courage to say, No ! Never taste or drink the first glass, 
and you will never be a drunkard ; drink it, and the chances 
are against you. You may indeed say, as I did that night, ' It 
will do no hurt this once.' But if you drink the first time, 
you will be more liable to accept the second time it is offered 
you. Then, again, did you ever know a moderate drinker to 
say or even think that he would become a drunkard ? They 
have not the least idea of such a thing. But who makes the 
drunkard, is it the sober, temperate man ? No, it is the moder- 
ate drinker. Then, reader, beware, if you take your first glass 
because it is fashionable or manly, that you do not, by the use 
of strong drinks, bring your body to an early grave, and your 
s"oul unprepared to meet its God. That first glass that I took 
that night at the tavern, was the means of bringing misery and 
wretchedness upon me, and an appetite for strong drinks that 
well-nigh carried me to a drunkard's grave. But my readers 
must pardon my digression here, if such they term it. My 
excuse is, that it is demanded, and I should fail to discharge 
that duty which devolves upon me of portraying the evils that 
arise from the results of taking the first glass, if I lightly 
passed this over. 



GREAT FRIGHT. 27 



CHAPTER IV. 

On Monday morning following, 1 arose early as I was accus- 
tomed to do, and took my scanty breakfast and started for my 
work. My way was through a narrow road called ' Stock's 
Lane.' This lane was about one-half a mile long, and one mile 
from this lane was the Sheffield Furnace Iron Foundry. The 
blaze that went up from the chimneys of that foundry would 
cast a light for miles around. One side of this lane that I trav- 
eled was shady, while the other was very light. By the side of 
this lane was Dolphin Chapel, with a burial-ground attached, 
where my mother was buried. I had often heard the old peo- 
ple tell of ghosts being seen here, and when passing this burial- 
place I used to keep on the dark side of the lane, so that no one 
could see me. Passing along early one Monday morning, on 
the dark side, I tripped, my foot against something in my way, 
and fell headlong. I arose quickly, and hearing behind me a 
snorting and clanking of chains, I ran as fast as I could, my hair 
standing on end. I had gone but a short distance before I came 
in contact with some other kind of an animal, and again fell 
prostrate to the ground. Now fear seized me, and with sweat 
dripping from me, I started with all speed. Again I heard the 
clanking of chains, and thinking the ' Old Fellow' himself was 
at my heels, I ran into a shed and braced myself against the 
door. I remained in this situation until I heard the voices of 
the other boys going to the mines, when I went out and told 
them how I had been frightened. They laughed at me, and 
said that they had been frightened in the same manner, and told 
me wMt had frightened me was nothing more than two jack- 
asses, owned by my uncle, that had lain down for the night, 
and had been suddenly startled by my running on to them, and 
being breechy they were clogged, a chain running from one foot 



28 HAJID TIMES. 

to another. I joined the boys in a good laugh, and we went to 
the mines. 

In these mines the water was some six inches deep. Working 
in this water my clothes would be soaked through ; it being 
cold weather, when I went home my clothes would freeze stiff, 
and rub the skin off my legs, making it very painful for me to 
walk. -These mines I would go into Monday morning, and 
would not see the sun again, only by glimpses up through the 
shaft, until the next Sunday morning, as I used to go in before 
it was light and leave the mines after sunset. 

I was now about eleven years old, but much larger and 
stronger than boys usually are at that age. 

About this time, a cousin, who lived under the same roof with 
me, came to work in the mines; whose mother always opposed 
strongly his going into the mines, but when she found that I 
stood the labor so well, and that I grew stronger and more ro- 
bust, she at last gave her consent for her son to work in them. 

He was very delicate, and after working in the mines a short 
time, in the water, he took cold, which brought on a cough, 
from which he never recovered. He was naturally timid, and 
as we passed through ' Stock's Lane,' I always used to go for- 
ward. About this time there were stories circulating of a wild 
man having been seen here, and he was more than usually timid. 
As we were going through this lane one morning, to the mines, 
early, before any colliers had arrived, we saw a bright light is- 
suing from one of the cabins near the pit; and looking -in we 
saw two men, one had a long beard reaching down to his breast. 
'That's the wild man,' said I, and then running to the pit, I 
seized the rope that went down the pit, and slid down into the 
mines. My cousin followed ; we were both scared, and ran and 
hid until the miners began to come ; and then we came out and 
told them what we had seen. The men were probably travel- 
ers, who went into a turf cabin to rest for the night. My 
cousin had the skin worn off his hands so badly by sliding down 
the rope, that he was unable to work, and 'went home and 



DANGERS IN THE PIT. 29 

never came back to the mines again. A short time after this, I 
was working in the mines one morning, when suddenly the roof 
broke clown, and I was buried in the dirt ; but one of the col- 
liers near me, seized hold of my legs and pulled me out. I was 
bruised badly, and wished to go home, but my master would 
not let me. When I went home at night, I told ray grand- 
mother, and she kept me at home two days. While out those 
two days, as it was about the time to celebrate the 'gunpowder 
plot,' I got me a large iron cannon and some powder, and when 
I went into the mines I took the cannon and powder with me. 
I loaded it, jamming in stones and dirt; the colliers were most 
of them drunk, celebrating, and they dared me to fire it off. I 
took a candle, and while the men were staggering around me, I 
touched the powder. The cannon burst, and the pieces were 
blown in almost every direction, but none of us were struck by 
the pieces. For some time I worked in these mines, no serious 
accidents occurring, although hardly a day passed without some 
slight accidents happening. The following is taken from Tom- 
linson's Cyclopedia: 

'The accidents in the coal-pits are very numerous. Accord- 
ing to one return, for every one hundred men employed, seven- 
ty-two accidents occur annually, of which five are fatal. The 
accidents are almost entirely bruises and broken limbs, arising 
from the falling down of the coal and heavy materials from the 
mine. These accidents can only be obviated by a safer system 
of extracting the minerals, by a liberal supply of timber and 
lights, and by prudence and caution on the part of the work- 
men and overlookers. Such accidents are most numerous in 
mines where middle men, or butties, are allowed ; they take the 
contract for a piece of work from the proprietor, and give it 
out to the men, and it is their interest to do the work as cheap- 
ly as possible, without any regard to the safety of the men.' 

A few honorable exceptions are, however, mentioned in the 
Parliamentary Report. One of these is the case of a man named 
Mason, whose pit had, for a long period, been almost entirely 



30 RELIGION IN THE PIT. 

free from accidents, and the reason assigned by the men was, 
that they met together to pray every day in the dinner hour. 
' About one o'clock the drink goes down the pit, and if a man 
is not at the place of prayer in ten minutes after, he forfeits his 
drink. They sing and pray, and ask a blessing on what they 
are going to have, and then they sit down in the road and eat 
their dinner and drink their beer ; and after dinner one reads 
out of the Scriptures and explains it, and tells the others what 
the preacher has said about it. Sometimes they get God's 
spirit among them very much, and sometimes less so.' Very 
few of these men could read, and it was stated that c a man 
could not be allowed to join in singing and praying unless he 
was thought to be living as a man ought to do.' To work in 
these mines, the colliers have to exercise much caution, and an 
experienced workman can tell immediately, by sounding the 
roof, if the dirt is likely to fall in ; and, if so, they support it 
with timber. While standing under the roof- one day, one or 
two pebbles fell at my feet, and I had barely time to spring 
away from the spot before some two or three tons of dirt and 
coal fell with a crash, on the very spot where I had been stand- 
ing. I went immediately to the mouth of the pit, and called 
for the 'banksman;' and just as I looked up, he dropped his 
'tug,' as it is called, (a piece of iron used to haul in the loaded 
corves as they are hoisted up,) which struck me on my fore- 
head, knocking me down instantly. In a short time one of the 
colliers came along and took me up. I recovered soon and 
went home, and my employer, finding that I should not be able 
to work for some time, hired another boy to take my place, 
which left me without work again. My grandfather soon after 
this went to a neighboring town to sell shuttles, and while par- 
taking of a lunch at an inn, a gentleman asked him if he knew 
of any boy that he could hire to work in the mines. This man 
was a steward or surveyor of coal. My grandfather told him that 
he had a boy who would work with him, and he agreed to give 
me my board and clothes for my labor. When my grandfather 



CONDITION OF TUE WORKMEN 31 

returned home, he told me what he had done, and, as this was 
Saturday, my employer came for me the Monday morning fol- 
lowing, and I went gladly with him, for I did not wish to be 
supported by charity. These mines that I commenced to work 
in were about 120 yards deep. My work was the same as in 
the other mines, only somewhat harder. In these mines was 
the choke-damp, so called by miners ; it is a carbonic-acid gas, 
of suffocating nature. It issues from certain veins in the mines, 
and no person can long withstand its power. I have often, 
when descending these mines, been obliged to cry out for the 
banksman to hoist me back, having my candle go out, and being 
nearly suffocated by the vapor arising out of the pit. The sur- 
veyor sometimes would not believe me, and he would be lowered 
down only to be hoisted back again. 

In these mines, in some places, the bottom of the passage 
would be entirely dry, while in other places the water would be 
from two to six inches deep. The boys used to work in the 
mines naked above their waist, and so begrimmed would they 
be by the coal-dust, that the only way we could distinguish one 
another was by the voice. There were besides the boys in 
these mines, seven girls that did the same labor, and were about 
the same ages of the boys. These girls were bright, intelligent, 
and very pretty ; but when at work in the mines, a stranger 
would have taken them to be negro boys. One of these girls 
was the surveyor's (my employer's) daughter; she was a very 
pretty girl. She used to work along side of me, and oftentimes 
when my corve got off from the track, she would assist me in 
getting it on again. Soon after I came into the mines, she went 
away to work in the mills. I missed her much, but I thanked 
God that she had got out of the coal-mines. Employing girls 
in the coal-mines was tolerated in England only about sixteen 
years ago, and no slave girls upon a southern plantation are 
worked so hard as they were. When very small, they are put 
into the mines ; usually, they are put in when younger than 
boys, for a singular notion of the parents that they are quick 



• / 



32 GIRLS IN THE MINES. 

and more capable of making themselves useful. The following 
extract will show how they are worked in the coal-mines. 

' The child has to descend a nine-ladder pit to the first rest, 
where a shaft is sunk to draw up the basket or tub of coal filled 
by the bearers ; she then takes her creel or basket, a basket 
formed to the back, not unlike a cockle-shell, flattened towards 
the neck, so as to allow lumps of coal to rest on the back of the 
neck and shoulders, and pursues her journey to the wall-face, or 
room of work, as it is called. She then lays down the basket, 
into which the coal is rolled, and a man lifts the burden to her 
back. The tug or strap is placed over the forehead, and the 
body bent into a semi-circular form in order to stiffen the arch ; 
large lumps of coal are then placed on her neck, and she com- 
mences her journey with her burden to the pit bottom, first 
hanging her lamp to the cloth crossing her head. One girl, no- 
ticed by the commissioner to examine coal mines, had first to 
travel about eighty-four feet from the wall-face to the first lad- 
der, which is eighteen feet high ; leaving the first ladder, she 
proceeded along the main passage (probably three and a half to 
four feet high) to the second ladder, till she reached the pit 
bottom, when she casts her load into the tub. This one jour- 
ney is called a rake. The height ascended and the distance 
along the roads, added together, exceed the height of St. Paul's 
Cathedral, and it often happens that the tugs break, and the 
load falls upon those girls that are following.' 

Many hearts were made happy when an act of Parliament 
prohibited females from working in the mines, also boys under 
ten years of age, with a heavy penalty attached to it, for those 
who violated the law. In this mine that I worked in now, they 
used a ' gin,' so called, for hoisting up the coal ; this gin was 
worked with ponies. One night some evil-minded person went 
to the mine and nearly severed the rope used for hoisting and 
lowering the corves down into the pit ; it was not noticed by 
the workmen in the morning, as the rope was carefully wound 
around the axle, so that the place where it<was cut could not be 



TERRIBLE ACCIDENT. 1 33 

perceived. The next morning two boys jumped into the car to 
be lowered down the pit; they had descended but a short dis- 
tance, when the rope parted and they were precipitated some 
eighty-three yards to the first chamber, and crashing through 
this they went down with the car thirty-five yards to the bot- 
tom of the pit, and were instantly killed. They could, not be 
recognized, as they were so crushed to pieces. I usually arrived 
at the pit as soon as any of the boys, but that morning I was 
late, and by being late I saved my life. A short time after this 
sad accident, a small boy that worked near me, about twelve 
years old, had loaded his corve too much behind ; he stooped 
over to pull the coal forward, when a piece of iron ore, weigh- 
ing some two hundred pounds, fell and struck him on the back 
of his head, instantly killing him. Some of the colliers carried 
him to the mouth of the pit, where he was hoisted to the top. 
I was a short distance from the spot at the time of the acci- 
dent, and was ever reminded of it when passing the place 
where it happened. My employer got the consent of my grand- 
father to bind me to him until I was twenty-one years of age, 
and I willingly acquiesced in the arrangement, as I did not wish 
to be a burden to my grandparents ; but my grandmother would 
not consent to the arrangement, and she came and took me 
home, and again I was without work. My grandfather could 
not keep me without work, as they could barely make a living 
while I was at work ; so in a few days I started in pursuit of 
work. I arose early one morning, and so earnest was I to obtain 
a situation, that I could not stop to eat my breakfast, but took 
a biscuit in my hand, and taking my hat, I was going out of the 
house, when my grandmother called me back and said, 'Isaac, 
take my blessing before you go ;' and standing upon the door- 
step, she put her thin hand upon my head, and said, ' God pre- 
serve thee from danger, and may thee obtain some work, that 
we may be kept from starving ; ' and, as she turned from me, I 
felt a tear drop upon my head. How that tear-drop thrilled 
me ! It seemed to open a fountain of tears, and they burst 
3 



34 . GRANDMOTHER'S BLESSING. 

from my eyes; wiping them away with my jacket-sleeve, I 
darted from the house and ran until I was out of sight, and then 
I seated myself beside the road and wept freely. I had never 
seen my grandmother so agitated before, and I thought that 
poverty must be staring them in the face. I remained in thought 
a short time, but I knew that I must obtain work. I continued 
my journey about two miles, to some mines, where I obtained 
work. I hired out with a collier for eight shillings a week. This 
man was a hard master, and a hard drinker. In the pit where I 
worked, the water was continually dripping from the roof — the 
miners called it raining, so that in a short time after going into 
the mines, we would be soaking wet. The water in this pit va- 
ried from two inches to a foot in depth, and in some places it 
had stood so many years that it was cankery, or corroded, and 
working in it barefooted, it would eat the skin off between my 
toes, making it very painful. Working in this water, I took 
cold, and it settled in one of my knees, and it swelled so badly 
that my grandmother cut my pants open and bandaged it 
around, and in this condition I walked two miles to and from 
my work. This was in the cold season, and I froze my feet 
badly, so that I had to stay at home. The swelling on my knee 
grew worse, and my grandparents thought it would be a white 
swelling ; but fortunately my knee soon got well. 



CHANGE OF MASTERS. 35 



CHAPTER V. 

I was confined to the house some three weeks or more ; but 
as soon as I could get about, I had to obtain work again. I 
did not want to go into the mines again, if I could obtain work 
at any other place. I spent some three days trying to get 
work, but was not successful. By some I would be greeted 
with a gruff reply, that they wanted no small boys ; by others' 
no notice would be taken of my request, and I would leave 
without repeating the inquiry. But I must obtain work, I said 
to myself, and I must go to the mines again ; so I went to 
1 shelve pit,' opposite an inn called the ' Shoulder of Mutton,' 
about one mile from home, where I got a job that kept me at 
work about a month, when the mines closed up, and I was left 
upon my grandparents again. 

I went to L , and hired out with a collier for nine shil- 
ling's a week. This mine was worked on a different scale from 

o 

the others. There was no shaft sunk into the ground ; but a 
passage was made into the side of a high bluff, at an angle of 
forty-five degrees. Windlasses were used at the outside of the 
passages. There were two tracks, one for the corves to go 
down, and the other for the loaded corves to go up. In this 
mine twenty-five boys and fifteen colliers worked. The dis- 
tance down the inclined plain was fifty yards ; and from the 
bottom there was a level road about one mile long. The bed 
of coal, when I came into the mine, had run out, and they had 
come to a solid ledge of iron ore, through which we had to 
blast. To make a blast, they drill a hole about one yard deep, 
which is filled nearly full of powder, and in the top is jammed 
coal-dust, and then it is ready for blasting. We had gone some 
twenty feet into this ore, when one day, as we were making a 



86 EXPLOSION IN THE MINES. 

blast, I took the canister of powder from my employer, and 
went some twenty yards to a passage that led to the left, where 
I should be safe from the explosion. 

I was in such haste to get away from danger that I left ray 
corve in the passage, which was only a trifle wider than the 
corve. The collier had lighted the fuse, and was hastening 
away from the blast, when he came to my corve, by which he 
managed to squeeze himself; but so enraged was he at my care- 
lessness in leaving it in the way, that when he arrived where I 
was, he ordered me to go out and take it away. I was afraid 
to go, and I was still more afraid to stay ; I turned to go, and 
had just got into the passage when the explosion took place, 
and one large piece of iron ore come with such force as to go 
through my corve, which was of iron, and I had just time to 
dodge back into the passage to the left, when it went past me 
with part of the corve. It was a terrible explosion. The roof 
shook over our heads, and for some time I thought it would 
come down and bury us forever in the passage. We all stood 
trembling there while it thundered back and forth in the pas- 
sages. By the dim light of our candles I could see my employ- 
er's face, which was as pale as death. As the noise ceased, my 
employer said, 'This won't do — it is too risky — we shall have 
to give it up. If I am not mistaken, we shall find that much 
of the roof is thrown down.' We hastened toward where the 
blast was made, but we could not reach the place, as the roof 
had fallen in, and completely filled the passage so that we could 
not proceed. The i boss' came to the conclusion that it would 
not pay to work the mine, and by doing it, run the risk of life ; 
he therefore took me with the rest of the boys, and carried us 
to another mine a short distance from this one. 

From the new mine that I now worked in, there was a sub- 
terranean passage to the last one I worked, or the one Ave blast- 
ed, and I have often, with the other boys, gone through this 
passage to the mine. This passage was the means of saving 
my life, with that of my employer. One forenoon, a short time 



NARROW ESCAPE FROM THE FIRE DAMP. 37 

after I had commenced woik in this mine, as there was no coal 
to hoist out, the banksman was away, and my employer and 
myself went into the mine alone, prospecting for coal. It was 
a muggy morning, the air damp and heavy, and we had been 
in the mine but a short time before the choke damp began to 
affect me some ; my candle flickered and went out. I ran to 
the collier, who was but a short distance from me, and told him 
that my light had gone .out, and that I could not stand the 
damp. lie began to rave and curse the damp, but while talk- 
ing, his own light went out, and we were left in almost total 
darkness, excepting the glimmering light that came down the 
shaft. The damp now began to affect my employer. 'What 
6hall we do?' he asked. I took hold of the rope to ascend the 
shaft, but I was weak, my strength failed me. I was always 
expert in going up a rope, and had many times ascended the 
shaft in this manner, but my hope was now cut off here. We 
cried out for help, but none came ! We were fast failing under 
the influence of this fell destroyer, when I thought of the sub- 
terranean passage ! ' We are saved!' I said. 'What do you 
mean by saved ? ' said my employer. * That our lives are saved. 
I know a passage that will carry us safely out, if I can find it 
in the darkness,' I said. ' Well, for God's sake,' he exclaimed, 
* let us find it quick, for I can hardly stand.' 

* Follow me,' I said, 'and we will try;' and upon our hands 
and knees (the passage would not admit of standing erectj, we 
groped our way along. There was a trap-door that opened 
into the passage that I wanted to find. I hurried along as fast 
as 1 could (with a piece of rope tied to my waist, the end of 
which my employer had hold of, afraid that unless he did, I 
should get off, and leave him to perish) to find the trap-door. 
We groped in the darkness some distance. Once or twice I 
struck my head against the roof with such force that it stunned 
me, and I fell flat upon the bottom of the passage; but my em- 
ployer coming up with me, would lift me up and push me for- 
ward. Before reaching the trap-door, I knew that we must 



88 SAVING MY EMPLOYER. 

take a passage to the left, and I began to think that I had taken 
the wrong passage, and was just on the point of turning back 
when I came to the one to the left. As I turned the corner, I 
knew that I was but a short distance from the door, and hope 
revived — but I felt the rope tighten around my waist ! I turned 
and spoke to my employer, but received no answer. I hurried 
to where he lay senseless upon the bottom of the passage ! I 
commenced to beat him with my fists, and to halloo in his ears: 
1 Courage ! ' I said, ' I have found the door, in a few moments 
we shall be safe. Follow me ! ' I hurried forward again, my 
employer following me, and soon came to the trap-door. I 
swung it open, and the fresh air rushing in, revived me, and I 
could not help falling upon my knees and thanking God for his 
care over me, and for our safe escape. I crept through the 
trap-door, and looked back for my employer, but he had fainted 
at the opening of the door. I pulled him through, and, shut- 
ting the door, ran to where some miners were at work (this 
passage was high enough to stand erect) and got some water, 
and dashing it in his face, soon had the pleasure of seeing him 
recover. We walked out to the mouth of the passage, and sat 
down on the ground until we had fully recovered. This was a 
narrow escape for us, but then the whole business is a risk, and 
in no part of it is a man safe, as may be seen by the daily re- 
ports. 

Dr. Buckland, the celebrated geologist says of mining: 'Col- 
lieries are exposed to an infinite number of accidents, against 
which no caution can guard. The chances of explosion have, 
it is true, been a good deal lessened by the introduction of Sir 
Humphrey Davy's lamp ; and some mines that are wrought, but 
for the invention of this admirable instrument, must have been 
entirely abandoned. But, besides explosions, which are still 
every now and then occurring from the carelessness of the 
workmen and other contingencies, mines are very liable to be 
destroyed by creeps, or by sinking of the roof and by drowning, 
or the eruption of water from old workings through fissures 



DEATH OF MY GRANDFATHER. 39 

which cannot be seen, and, consequently, cannot be guarded 
against. So great, indeed, is the hazard attending this sort of 
property, that it has never been possible to effect an insurance 
on a coal-work against lire, water, or any other accident.' 

My employer never went into the mines again, and as he did 
not want me any longer, he settled with me, and I went home 
to my grandparents. While at home, my grandfather was taken 
sick ; this was his first and last sickness. He continued to fail 
for three weeks, and when near his end, my uncle Edward said 
to my grandmother, 'He will never speak again !' My grand- 
mother went to the head of the bed and said, 'Jonas, how art 
thou?' 'I am happy! I am happy!' he said, and expired. 

This incident made a deep impression upon me. I had stood 
beside those who had died — who had no hope in Christ; and 
when death came, they quailed before the grim messenger, and 
with bitter oaths and awful groans they left the earth. But 
how great the contrast between the death of the sinner and 
the Christian. Calmly and silently the Christian meets death, 
and feels happy to welcome him, knowing that to die and be 
with Christ is gain. 

I felt sad at the death of my grandfather, for I had been with 
him so long, that I felt that he was the same as a father to me. 
Although my grandmother was spared, as she was poor, I 
thought my uncle Edward would have the control over me, and 
this made me feel bad, for I knew that he drank hard, and often 
came home drunk, and would then abuse his family, sometimes 
driving them out of the house. I heard my grandmother pray 
for him, that he might give up the intoxicating cup, and that he 
might be saved from the doom that awaits the drunkard. Oh! 
the power of prayer! Who of us can tell its mighty influence? 
W^hen we shall stand at the judgment-seat of Christ, then will 
be unfolded to us the mysteries that we cannot now compre- 
hend. Then shall we more fully understand than we now do, 
the power there is in prayer. The centurion, when he asked 
Christ to heal his servant, said, 'Lord, I am not worthy that 



40 STRANGE CUSTOM AT FUNERALS. 

thou shouldst come under my roof; but speak the word only, 
and my servant shall be healed.' Jesus said, 'Go thy way; and 
as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee.' It was the faith 
of the centurion that saved his servant. Think of this, ye 
Christians, who may peruse these lines, and remember that your 
prayer for the poor drunkard shall not be in vain. 

It^was the custom then, at funerals, to have what is called a 
'funeral cake,' and every one that goes, into the house takes a 
piece of this cake as the remains of him that has passed away. 
I remember that my grandfather was carried to the Methodist 
church, where a sermon was preached ; from thence he was car- 
ried to the grave, and there the minister made some remarks — 
spoke of my grandfather as being a consistent Christian, and 
of his adherence to the cause of Christ through difficulties and 
trials. The corpse was then lowered into the grave, and a 
hymn sung, and the company then went to the Dolphin Chapel 
Tavern, where they held a 'funeral burial drinking,' as it was 
termed. Each one that went paid one shilling, which money 
went to pay for the drink. They drank 'mulled beer,' and my 
uncle Edward drank so much that he got intoxicated, and had 
to be carried home. I drank with the rest of them. 

My grandmother now broke up housekeeping, and my uncle 
William took all the things, excepting a loom that my grand- 
mother kept to weave with. She tried to get along with weav- 
ing, so as to support herself and me ; but we could not earn 
enough to support us, so my uncle William took me into his 
charge. 



ABUSED BY MY EMPLOYER. 41 



CHAPTER VI. 

My uncle Edward drove a team to the coal-mines, and pur- 
chased coal, which he would haul to the village and sell. At 
the pit where he bought his coal, he got me work, and although 
I was unwilling to go to work in that mine, as I knew what a 
bad one it was. — passages very steep, so that the boys were in 
danger of being run over by their corves, and also bad water — 
yet he compelled me to go. The passage into the mines (it was 
an inclined plane) was just large enough to admit one corve 
with a little to spare. I could just squeeze by one. These 
corves had brakes fixed to the wheels to keep them from run- 
ning over the boys when they went the down grade. The col- 
lier that I hired out with was a tyrannical fellow. Working 
one day, he thought I was gone too long with my corve, and 
when I came back, he began to curse and swear at me for hav- 
ing been gone so long. I told him that I went as quickly as I 
could, which enraged him, and he told me to come where he 
was, and help fill up the corve. The boys were not expected to 
shovel any coal, but sometimes when our corves were not full 
when we came back with the empty ones, we would help fill 
them. I went and took the shovel, and commenced to fill my 
corve, when my boss began to strike and kick me, saying, 'I'll 
learn you better than to contradict me.' I thought he would 
kill me! My grandmother told me that when any person 
abused me, to tell them I was an orphan boy ; I therefore told 
him I was an orphan boy, and when I told him this, he ceased 
abusing me. I was not able to work the rest of the day, but he 
made me. When night came, I hurried home and told my 
grandmother how my employer had treated me; but all she 
could do was to pray for me, which she did earnestly, and I still 



42 STILL ABUSED— NOW BY MY UNCLE. 

kept to work in the mine. A short time after my master had 
abused me so badly, I was going into the mine, when the brake 
slipped off my wheel, and as I could not hold my corve from 
going down the passage, I had to run as fast as I could before 
it, until at a turn in the passage, it struck against me, jamming 
my head severely. I crawled up and got upon a loaded corve, 
as it was drawn up the passage, unknown to my employer, and 
jumped off, and hurried home. When my uncle went to 
the mines after coal, my employer told him that I had run 
away. My uncle then went to the house, with a whip in his 
hand, and ordered me to go back to the mine. I showed him 
the bruises on my head, and told him how it was caused, and 
that I was not able to go back ; he would pay no regard to my 
explanations, but ordered me back to the mine. I ran behind 
my grandmother's loom, and my uncle came towards me with 
the whip. My grandmother entreated him not to strike me, 
but he paid no attention to her entreaties, but struck me with 
the whip, and told me that unless I went back to the mines he 
would horsewhip me. I started for the mines, and he followed, 
and when he came up to me, would cut me with the whip; thus 
was I compelled, although bruised badly, to go back and work 
in the mines. 

I continued work in this mine about one month; I then went 
to work for nine shillings a week, four miles from home. My 
uncle now had no control over me. This mine was near ' Pic- 
kle Gate,' and near by was an old building that was reported to 
be haunted, and that many murders had been committed there. 
My uncle "William was thrown out of employment, and came to 
work as brakeman on a coal-car, where I was ; and wishing to 
get his family near him, he went to see if he could not get a 
tenement to live in. He went to the owner of the old building, 
who told him that he might have the rent free if he would oc- 
cupy it. My uncle thought it was a generous offer, and imme- 
diately moved his family into the old building, and as it was 
some distance to my grandmother's, I went to board with him. 



THE BANDITTI. 43 

"When wo came home nights from work, the children would 
tell us that they had heard strange noises in the house, and they 
seemed to he frightened, and very loth to stay alone. In this 
manner it passed on several days, when one night, as my uncle 
and myself were returning from our work, my uncle said to me, 
'I see a light in the cellar window.' 'I guess not,' I said, 'the 
girls don't go down cellar.' But he still persisted that he saw 
a light, and hastening toward the house, we went up the stair- 
way, which w r as on the outside of the building, and opening the 
door, 'Have any of you been down stairs with a light?' my un- 
cle asked. They replied they had not. The building was out 
of repair, and the only part that was tenantable was the second 
story. My uncle told us to wait for him, and, taking a lantern, 
started for the cellar ; and passing noiselessly down the rotten 
stairs with his lantern shaded, he saw a light issuing from the 
key-hole of the cellar-door; and stooping down, he looked 
through, and saw, not more than ten feet from him, four men, 
one standing up, while the others were seated around on boxes, 
dressed like citizens, with the exception of a three-cornered cap 
which they had on. As my uncle was looking through, one 
spoke, and said to the person that was standing up, ' Captain, 
I'll tell you what it is, I'm not going to risk my life any longer; 
now there's them young ones up-stairs poking around; the first 
thing we know, we shall be caged.' 

'Well, Jim,' said the captain, 'we must do something. You 
know I've sent a man here a dozen times to make a noise, and 
scare the children, and get them out of the house ; but hang 
me if they don't stick like a leech. Jones, there is that lantern 
again ; this is the second time you have let light strike the win- 
dow ; suppose some one was passing.' 

'Don't be scared,' said Jones, 'the window is boarded up.' 

' Well, the light might be seen by some one passing, if it is 
boarded up,' said the captain. ' But to go on. I'll tell you, 
Jim. That fellow up stairs is some kin to me, and I don't like 
to resort to harsh measures ; but kin or no kin, if he don't leave 



44 UNCLE FBIGHTENED OUT OF HIS HOUSE. 

soon, we will take some measure to remove him. But come, 
boys, we must be off, we have got a job, you know, to-night;' 
and upon this, they went to the farthest side of the cellar, and 
opening a door, passed out. My uncle was not naturally a 
timid man, but he felt rather uneasy as he overheard them talk 
so coolly of removing him out of the way ; and then the cap- 
tain said he was some kin to him, — he could not think of any 
person that was related to him that followed such a profession 
for a living. For some time lie was lost in meditation, but 
arousing, he thought of his children who needed his care. He 
turned and hastened up stairs, where we were anxiously await- 
ing his coming. We eagerly asked him what he had seen ;»but 
he told us that he would relate the circumstances to us in the 
morning. After supper, he told us to go to bed, while he kept 
watch over us. The next day at the breakfast table lie told us 
the whole story, and that day he moved his family back to the 
old house. 

The fire-damp was in the mines that I now worked in, car- 
bureted hydrogen gas that issues from veins in the mines. 
Tomlinson's Cyclopedia says: 

* The great and terrible scourge that distinguishes coal mines, 
and especially those of the great northern coal-field, is the es- 
cape of large quantities of fire-damp, which, mingling with the 
air of the mine in certain proportions, forms a mixture that ex- 
plodes on contact with flame. This gas is much lighter than 
common air, and mingles readily with it, and when poured out 
into the workings, moves along with the ventilating current in 
the direction of the upcast shaft. The quantity of gas thus 
poured out is considerable, but subject to great variations, some 
seams being more fiery or full of gas than others; and in work- 
ing these fiery seams, it is not uncommon for a jet of inflam- 
mable gas to issue from every hole made for the gunpowder 
used in blasting. The gas issues from these cavities with con- 
siderable noise, and forms what is termed blowers. These 
blowers are sometimes so constant in their action that the gas 



TERBIBLE EXPLOSION. 45 

is collected and conveyed by a tube into the .upcast shaft, con- 
tinuing for months or years to pour out hundreds or thousands 
of hogsheads of fire-damp per minute. When thus provided 
for, the blowers are not necessarily a source of danger ; but 
when one of these reservoirs, containing the pent-up gas of 
centuries, and consequently under an enormous pressure, is sud- 
denly broken open, the gas is set free in torrents, and, mingling 
with the air of the mine, forms an explosive mixture which the 
first spark or naked flame may ignite, and thus cause a fearful 
destruction, both of life and property. Nor is the explosion 
itself always the thing to be dreaded most ; for the ignition of 
the fire-damp kindles the coal-dust which always exists in great 
quantities in the passages, and, in a moment, causes the mine to 
glow like a furnace. This conflagration is succeeded by vast 
columns of carbonic acid gas, or choke-damp, as it is emphati- 
cally called, from its suffocating nature, and this destroys those 
whom the explosion had spared.' 

Near the mine where I worked was a small stream of water, 
that I have often dammed so as to stop the flow of the water, 
and when it had run off below the dam, touch the bottom with 
a lighted candle, and instantly the whole bed of the stream 
would be in a flame. One morning there were two men going 
down the shaft with a lighted rope's end, when the blaze 
touched a vein of fire-damp, and it caused a terrible explosion, 
blowing the landing boards to the top of the shaft, and the two 
men some fifty feet into the air, killing them instantly. 

This sad accident made me somewhat afraid of the coal- 
mines, and I made up my mind not to work in them any more. 
I went home to my grandmother and told her of the awful ac- 
cident that took place at the mine, and the conclusion I had 
come to, of not working in the mines again on any condition 
whatever. My uncle set me to weaving on a ' Jacquard' loom. 
I was now about 13 years old. I worked with my uncle a few 
months, but as I could not make enough to support me, I left 
and went to Bradford, about four miles distant, to work with a 



46 DEATH OF GBANDMOTHEE. 

man named Ackroid, weaving. I soon left this man and went 
to work for his brother, who agreed to give me my board and 
clothes for my labor. He was a great drinking man. I had 
heard of him before I went to Bradford, and if I could have 
done better elsewhere, I would not have worked with him. He 
used to bring liquor to his house, where he would sometimes 
treat me to a drink ; but as he was very snug I was not treated 
often, but he and his wife would both get drunk together. I 
used to work hard for this man, and earned him fifteen shillings 
a week, and all I received was my board ; and as for my clothes 
that he was to furnish me, all I got were second-hand articles 
that had seen their best days. 

I went home every Saturday night to see my grandmother, 
and one Saturday night I found her sick ; but Monday morning 
I had to leave her, and with tears in her eyes she bade me fare- 
well, and told me to remember the counsel she had given me, 
and be sure and not go into the army (this she had many times 
before entreated me not to do), saying that she should never 
see me again, she bade me farewell, as she supposed, and which 
afterwards proved forever. I had to leave, although I thought 
that I should never see her again alive. I went back sorrowful, 
and stayed until the next Saturday night, then I hurried home 
to my grandmother's. I found my grandmother dead ; she died 
on the same day of the month that my grandfather did. She 
was buried Sunday, and I stopped to the funeral and followed 
her to the grave. I saw her in the coffin, but I did not weep. 
I had passed through so many scenes that my heart was har- 
dened. Her remains were carried to Dolphin Chapel, and a 
funeral sermon preached, where, just one year before, I listened 
to my grandfather's funeral sermon. Her remains were then 
carried to the grave, and as they lowered her down into the 
ground, the tears began to flow, and I thought, now I have the 
wide world before me — a.11 my kindred that loved me are gone, 
and all I love, — now my home is wherever I may roam. No 
kind friends will weep at my departure ; no friendly tear be 



BREAKING MY WRIST. 47 

shed ; but henceforth I am a wanderer. Bat I thought of what 
my grandmother often told me, that God was a father to the 
orphan, and that if I loved Him, he would never forsake me. 
When I went back to the mill I often thought of those words, 
and prayed that God would take care of me, and oftentimes, 
when drinking with a friend, the pale face of my grandmother 
would seem to come up to reprove me. 

About one month after my grandmother's death, I was play- 
ing with some boys in the mill-yard, and was thrown down and 
broke my wrist. I wrapped it around with my apron, and went 
to my employer's house. I was afraid to go in, and I therefore 
sat down on the door-step. My employer's wife saw me there, 
but did not take any notice of me, although I was crying ; but 
one of the boarders, named Daniel Sharp (may God bless him 
for his kindness to me at that time), asked, me what I was cry- 
ing about. I told him that I had broken my wrist, and did not 
know what to do, and burst into tears. 

' Don't cry, lad,' he said, ' we will get it fixed up ; come with 
me;' and taking me by the hand, started off to find a surgeon 
to set my wrist ; we went a short distance, and Sharp led me 
into a physician's office. c Ah! ' said the surgeon, ' whom have 
we here ? ' 

' A poor boy, who has broken his wrist, and wishes it attend- 
ed to,' said Sharp. 

'You must seek some other place,' said the surgeon, ' as I 
have a call to make immediately; good day,' he said, and ad- 
vancing towards us, he fairly compelled us to go out the door, 
and deliberately shut it in our faces. 

'Blast his pictur,' said Sharp, 'I had a good mind to have 
knocked the contemptible puppy down — the old snipe is as rich 
as mud, and snug as an oyster; he knew at a glance that it 
wasn't a paying job, and he took that method to get rid of us; 
but cheer up, we will try again.' 

Sharp led me rapidly by shops and streets until we stopped 
by a stairway. 'There,' he said, ' we will try here, and see what 



48 EXPERIENCE WITH THE DOCTORS. 

we can do ;' and leading me up the steps, he opened a door, and 
walked into a room where there was a pleasant-looking man, 
who bowed, and arose at our entrance. I felt cheered by his 
pleasant look, and thought my journey was over. 'Dr. Jame- 
son, I believe,' said Sharp. 

'That is my name,' said the occupant; 'can I do anything for 
you to-day?' 

' Can you set this youngster's wrist ? ' 

' Yes, I ' but here he stopped, for a girl came hastily in, 

and handed him a note, over which the doctor hurriedly looked, 
and said, ' Must I go immediately ? ' 

' That w^as my mistress' request,' said the girl. 

' Well, I suppose I must go ; ' and turning to Sharp, said, 
' Sorry that I cannot attend to the boy, but you see this is one 
of my patients, and I must attend to the case immediately.' 

Sharp said not a word, but pulling me along, hurried out of 
the office and down the stairs. 

' Well, my lad,' he said to me, ' are you tired ? ' 

' I am not tired of walking,' I said, ' but my arm pains me.' 

' Well, we will try again ; ' and hurrying me across the street, 
he entered a druggist's store, and addressing the clerk w T ho stood 
behind the counter, he asked, ' Is the surgeon within ? ' 

' You will find him in the rear of the store,' he said, pointing 
to the back part of the shop. 

We passed through into an office, in which was a man wdth 
the most forbidding countenance I ever beheld. Not giving us 
a chance to speak, he said, ' I am very busy, you see, just now — 
had to turn three patients aw^ay,' and looking sharply at me, said, 
' Poor, I see, t'wont do. I can't afford to lose my time. Here, 
John,' he said, opening the office door, 'just fix that compound.' 
Then turning to us, he continued : ' You see how it is, I am 
dreadfully drove compounding at present.' He stood with his 
sleeves rolled up, with a spatula in one hand, scales in front, on 
a table, while various colored pow T ders were heaped" around. 

'A new discovery, — entirely new; cures .bronchitis immedi- 



UUMBUG CONTINUED. 49 

ately, upon two applications; one application effectually re- 
moves warts, and four destroys the bites or stings of the most 
venomous animal. How many boxes will you have ? ' he said, 
addressing Sharp. 

'I don't want a single box; I want this boy's wrist set,' said 
Sharp. 

The compounder did not pay any attention to what Sharp 
said, but seemed to be absorbed in mixing the different pow- 
ders. 

' There, it is finished,' he continued, and taking a small wood- 
en box, he filled it up, and handing it to Sharp, said, 4 there, 
friend, you need not be afraid of corns.' 

4 Well, I am not afraid of corns, not by a d d sight,' said 

Sharp. 

' Hold on,' said the surgeon, ' let me explain.; as I said before,, 
you need not be afraid of corns with that box in your pocket 
it is a sure cure if applied immediately.' 

4 Hang your corn powders ; I want this boy's wrist set,' said 
Sharp. 

At this point of the conversation, I noticed the clerk beckon- 
ing us to come out, and I pulled Sharp out into the shop. 

' He is out of his head, poor fellow ; he runs all on compound- 
ing; good joke, aint it?' said the clerk. 

We thought it was a poor joke, and went out ; by this we 
were delayed half an hour. 

'Now, lad,' Sharp said, 4 I will go with you until we get some 
one to attend to your wrist.' 

We went a short distance to another surgeon's office, where 
there was an elderly man, with spectacles on. 4 Hurt ? ' he said. 

4 Yes, a broken wrist,' said Sharp. ' Can you attend to it ? 

4 Have you anything to pay for attending to it ? ' said the sur- 
geon, seeing we were dressed poorly. 

4 This is a poor boy, whom I found in the road crying. I sup- 
pose he has nothing to pay with. I am sure I have not,' said 
Sharp. 



50 GETTING WRIST SET. 

'You must take him to the Infirmary; they will attend to 
him there, though you will want a certificate. Let me see,' and 
taking off my apron he examined my wrist, somewhat to my 
discomforture, after which he wrote a line on a piece of paper. 
'There,' he said, 'you will want two more names. Let me see, 
I will give you the address of two of the nearest surgeons.' 
And writing them down on the back of the small slip of paper, 
he handed it to Sharp. 

We thanked him, and then went out to find the two surgeons 
to get their names, which we accomplished without much diffi- 
culty. We went to the Infirmary, and I had my wrist set, and 
then I went to my employer's house. I remained out of the 
mill three weeks, and then I went to work again with one hand 
in a sling. 



TROUBLE WITH THE MUFF. 51 



CHAPTER VII, 

One Saturday night, after ray wrist had got well, I went to 
Bee my uncle William and stopped until Monday morning, when 
I arose early and started for my work. I had gone but a short 
distance below Dolphin Chapel, when I saw something black 
blow across the road. I went and picked it up and found 
it to be a muff. I took it along with me to the tavern at foot 
of Stony Lane, that I have referred to before, and went in .Two 
men were playing cards in the bar-room, and one said, '"What 
have you got there ? ' as I held the muff up. I told him that 
it was a muff I had found but a short distance from the tavern. 
He examined it, after which he asked me how much I would take 
for it. I replied that I did not know how much it was worth, 
and that I did not know as I had any right to sell it, as it was 
not mine to sell. The man laughed, and told me as I had found 
it, it was mine, and that he would give me a half a crown for it. 
I told him he might have it, as I did not know the worth of 
it, which I afterwards learned was twenty-five dollars, or 
five pounds. But as fifty cents was more money than I ever 
had of my own at any one time, I quickly took up with the 
offer that he made me, and then went to my work. 

The next day there came out a notice in the papers of a high- 
way robbery having been committed at such a place, and a re- 
ward offered for the recovery of a muff, etc. The same day, 
two constables came into the mill where I was at work, and 
carried me to Bradford jail, and put me in a small, damp, dark 
cell, and kept me in that miserable place three days and nights 
(and long ones they were to me, being unused to stopping in 
such places), to answer to the charge of highway robbery. 
Not quite 14 years of age, what a precocious youth I must have 



52 in PRISON. 

been to stop a carriage with a gentleman and lady, and demand 
their money ! How sad I felt to be confined in a jail, and for 
nothing that I had done to deserve it. But I was cheered by 
the thought, that as I was innocent of the crime, and that they 
could not sustain the charge, that I should necessarily be freed. 
But how mistaken I was. I have learned by bitter experience 
since, that the innocent often suffer in this world, while the 
guilty go free. On the forenoon of the fourth day I was brought 
before the magistrate, to answer to the charge against me of 
highway robbery. The gentleman and lady appeared against 
me, but could not swear that I was the robber ; yet, circum- 
stantial evidence, the finding of the muff at the tavern, my 
selling it for half a crown, was so strong against me, that the 
charge was sustained, and I was ordered to be confined in jail 
three weeks, until the session of court. My heart sank within 
me when I heard the decision, and I seemed to feel that every 
one was against me. The next morning an officer came and 
handcuffed me, and took me from my cell. I was glad to get 
out of it, supposing that I could not get into a worse one, but 
I was mistaken. I was carried eighteen miles to Wakefield jail, 
the worst prison in England, and was there shown into a large 
room, where I was told to strip. They then brought me a shirt, 
a pair of pants, with yellow, black, and green stripes, — one leg 
of which was some inches shorter than the other; then a vest, 
the original color of which could not be determined, and to fin- 
ish, a pair of clogs, which were so large that I could step into 
them ; and after being rigged up in this style, I was told to 
look in the glass. I was somewhat startled at the change ef- 
fected in my appearance, in so short a time. I was generally 
called decent-looking, but I had undergone such a transmogri- 
fication, that I do not think crows would have ever troubled a 
corn-field with such a figure as I was stuck up in the center of 
it. After having my head shaved, I was taken to a miserable 
cell, with a small cot in it, where I was told to make myself at 
home, and the officer went out and locked the door after him. 



SIGHING FOR LIBERTY. £3 

I looked around the room to sec what I could do to pass 
away the time. The cell was about seven by nine, and my cot 
occupied one corner, while in another was a jug of water; these 
were all there were in the cell. Through a small grated window, 
the light came in, and by pulling my cot along underneath it, 
I could look out and see the boys and girls playing on the com- 
mon. It was in the spring of the year, and all was beautiful, 
and never before did the earth, the sky, the flowers, and the 
trees look so fair as they did to me, as I gazed out of that 
grated window ! 

Everything seemed to be at liberty but me, and I was con- 
fined in prison, and for what? I tried to think what I was 
there for, but I could give no other reason than that of finding 
a muff, and selling it for half a crown. As I would ponder the 
matter over in my mind, it would cause my blood to boil with 
indignation, and my evil passions would be aroused, and a spirit 
of revenge would be enkindled within me ! When I was lib- 
erated, I would seek out the man who appeared against me, 
and kill him. And then again, I would think of the words that 
my grandmother used to read to me out of the old Bible : 'Do 
good to them that despitefully use you,' — 'Love your enemies;' 
and when these thoughts would come over me, how it w T ould 
still my troubled mind, and quiet my angry passions. Then I 
would gaze from my window, and as the gentle breeze bore to 
my ear the merry laughter of the boys and girls on the common, 
the tears would course down my cheeks, and I would wish that 
I was dead. ' Why is it,' I said to myself, ' that every person 
seems to be against me, and that I am spared to be thus perse- 
cuted, while other boys have all the privileges and enjoyments 
of life ? I have as much right to them as they.' It seemed as 
if I was indeed battling against the world — all against me. 
How unequal a warfare it is indeed, I thought. Thus I thought 
as I walked the floor, and, rushing to my cot, I tried to drown 
my thoughts in slumber. I sunk into a drowse, but my mind 
was as active as ever. It seemed as if I was upon a high prec- 



54 AWFUL DREAM. 

ipice, beside the ocean, and was opposing a foe that I could not 
perceive, whose folds seemed to entwine around me, which I 
sought in every way to elude, but found myself completely in 
his control. "With superhuman efforts, I endeavored to break 
from his grasp, but after a vain struggle, I sank exhausted to 
the earth. My strength returning, I arose to renew the contest, 
but it seemed as if my strength was nothing, compared with 
the monster; but by a lucky blow, I laid the monster prostrate 
at my feet, it seemed ; but as I turned to hasten from the spot, 
a strong, irresistible power detained me, and turn which way I 
would, it seemed to meet me. The ocean was behind ; I turned 
toward this — some power detained me ! Death, I thought, is bet- 
ter than battling with an unseen foe ; and springing from the 
bluff, I went through the air at a frightful speed — down! down! 
I went, until I plunged deep into the surging billows! I sprang 
from my cot, shivering ! Thank God, it is all a dream ! But 
what a frightful one ! It was a singular dream to me. Should 
I heed it ? I thought before the dream, that there was one way 
for me to make my escape, and that was to take my life ; but I 
had not the courage to think of it now. My dream had broken 
the foolish train of thoughts. It seemed to be the voice of a 
superior being that spoke to me through this singular and time- 
ly dream. It was dark when I laid down upon my cot, but 
now the morning light came into the window. ' Thank God,' 
I said to myself, 4 that my grandmother is not alive, and that I 
have no friends to lament my condition ; but that I alone must 
bear it ! ' In this state I continued through the day. The next 
day was rainy, and it did not seem to be so dreary within, as it 
was disagreeable without; but toward night, the clouds parted, 
and the sun shone out in all its splendor, and the dew-drops on 
the trees glistened like diamonds. 

I felt sad now, and miserable, to be thus deprived of the 
common blessings of life ! Never do we know how to prize 
them until we are deprived of them. The liberty to rove over 
the earth, under the broad canopy of heaven, with the whole 



TAKEN FROM PRISON. 55 

face of nature before us, — to enjoy all its beauties, — to feel the 
invigorating breeze, and to experience that enjoyment and 
pleasure that he alone can feel who is at liberty ! Why had I 
not died years ago, rather than to be left here with none to care 
for me, and none to love me ? Would that I were buried be- 
side my mother in the grave, and covered over with the cold 
sods of earth, for how much better would it be than to live, if 
' I am freed at last, suspected and shunned by all around me! 
How shall I Gfo into the world again, although innocent as I am 
will the world believe it? I shall be pronounced guilty, and 
be ashamed to look the people in the face as I pass them on the 
street, for wherever I may go, this deed which I have not clone, 
but for which I am pronounced guilty, will meet me, and I 
shall be pointed at with the finger of scorn. Oh, how often I 
prayed that God would take me from the world ! 

In this manner I passed three long weeks. One morning I 
was taken from the prison, and in company with twenty-one 
others, carried to Pomfret, all of us chained together as crimi- 
nals. I was the smallest of the company. We were carried in 
a horse-car, huddled together like cattle, and when we arrived 
at Pomfret, we were put into a large cell, or room under ground, 
and straw thrown down for us to sleep upon. The next morn- 
ing they commenced to take out the prisoners to be tried for the 
crimes declared against them, each one in his order. Every one 
that went out before me was sentenced from four to twenty-one 
years to Van Dieman's Land. What a dreadful scene it was to 
witness the agony of the poor fellows, and some of them, I have 
no doubt, were as innocent of the crimes charged upon them as 
I was ! A blacksmith welded an iron ring around the ankle of 
those that were to be transported, as soon as they came back. 
As I saw the poor fellows return, I thought that my time would 
come soon, and I expected to get transported with the rest. I 
remained in this miserable hole three days before my turn came, 
and then I was called out. I was handcuffed and taken to the 
court-house, — my handcuffs taken off, my crime read against me 



56 TRIAL AND ACQUITTAL. 

for committing highway robbery at such a time and place, and 
after this was read to me, I was asked, ' Guilty or not guilty ? 
I did not know the meaning of guilty, and while I stood look- 
ing at the people around, a gentleman told me to say, ' Not 
guilty,' which I did; but if he had told me to say 'Guilty,' I 
should have said it as quickly. I was then asked if I had any 
counselor, or any friends to speak for me. A very righteous in- 
quiry, — confined three weeks in jail, and seeing no one in all that 
time to speak to, but the man who brought me my food. I was 
asked if I had anything to say for myself. I told them that I 
did not do the deed that -was charged against me, — that I was 
going to my work when I saw the muff blow across the road, 
and that I picked it up and carried it to the tavern, and there I 
sold it for half a crown to a man in the bar-room, as I was igno- 
rant of its value, — that I had no friends, neither father nor moth- 
er, sister nor brother, grandmother nor grandfather, and that I 
was alone in the world. This I told with tears in my eyes, 
which created much feeling for me. Witnesses were called, but 
the gentleman did not appear against me to sustain the charge, 
and I have no doubt he felt ashamed of the part he had taken 
in the matter, and therefore dropped it where it was. I never 
believed that they had a muff stolen from them, but to raise an 
excitement, he advertised the muff in the manner he did, hav- 
ing no idea that it would be carried so far. As no one appeared 
against me, I was taken to. the room under ground, and kept 
there that day, but as no one appeared, I was liberated the next 
morning. 

How happy I felt when I got into the world again ! I went 
into a large public square, and there I told a man that I had 
just got out of prison, and had no money, nor friends to apply 
to for help, and that I was some thirty-six miles from the place 
where I worked. He told me to go back to the court-house, 
and tell them my condition. I went back as he told me, and 
stated my case, and was given eighteen pence, or one halfpenny 
a mile, to carry me back to my employers. The first thing I 



ALL MY CAKES GONE. 57 

did after I received the money was to go into a shop where 
they sold pies and cakes, and get something to eat ; I spent 
about one-half my money — filled my pockets and hands full of 
cakes, and started on my journey. It was a beautiful morning, 
and the road was a fine one, and for some distance trees were 
upon both sides, which completely shaded it. Before I had gone 
two miles, I had eaten all ray cakes, but I soon came to a small 
village, and I here invested the balance of my money in eata- 
bles, and these I ate up before I had gone much further. Feel- 
ing tired, I sat down beside the road until I saw a man coming 
in a wagon. I asked him if he would let me ride a short dis- 
tance with him ; he gave his consent, and stopped his horse, and 
I clambered into the back part of the wagon. 



58 BEGGING MY WAY HOME. 



CHAPTER VIII, 



We jogged along about seven miles to his house, though I 
could have walked the same distance in about the same time, 
when I thanked him, and got out of the wagon, and continued 
on my journey. It was getting towards noon, and I began to 
feel hungry. I had no money nor friends to apply to, and I 
therefore came to the conclusion to beg. I saw a small neat- 
looking house but a short distance before me, and thought I 
would try and get something to eat ; I went up to the house, 
and knocked at the door. It was opened by a pleasant-looking 
woman, and I asked her if she would give me something to 
eat. 

'Where you from, my boy?' she asked. 

What should I do? I hesitated before speaking, but at 
length I told her that I had just got out of prison, where I had 
been wrongfully kept by a false charge made against me, — 
thinking it was best to tell the truth. 

c Come in,' she said ; 'you shall have enough to eat. I am 
glad you told me the whole story, and I believe it, because a 
boy would not be likely to tell anything like that, unless it was 
true, and I believe you are innocent.' 

She took me into a room, and asked me to be seated while 
she went to get me something to eat. I sat down, and she soon 
returned with a bountiful supply of provisions, and set them be- 
fore me. After I had eaten my fill, I thanked her for her kind- 
ness, and was going out of the door, when she said these words : 
'Always tell the truth, under whatever circumstances you may 
be placed, my lad ; and remember that God can always bring 
you safely out, no matter how dark and discouraging it may 
look.' 



MEETING BEBUFFS. 59 

I was somewhat astonished at these words ! She probably- 
had divined my thoughts, while I was hesitating what to say, 
when I stood upon the doorstep. This was a lesson that I did 
not soon forget, and it made a good and lasting impression upon 
me. I hurried on my way, strengthened and encouraged by 
the pleasant words, as well as the food that the woman ha 1 
been hind enough to give me. I passed some small villages on 
my way, and toward night I came to quite a large place, and as 
I was tired, I thought I had better try and get some place to stop 
all night. I went up to a house and asked a man there if he 
would put me up that night ; he said he did not want strange 
boys in his house, as he did not know who they were, — they 
might set his house on lire in the night. I asked him if he 
would let me stop in his barn. 

'No, I will not let any one sleep there; I would not risk my 
stock, hay, and carriages ; why, I might have them all burned 
up!' 

I turned away from his door to find some person more hos- 
pitable. I had net gone far when I came to a fine house that 
sat in back from the street, and I thought to myself, I will go 
in and see what I can do; I therefore opened the gate to enter, 
when I heard a gruff voice from the grounds, in front of the 
house, which arrested my progress. 'We do not allow strange 
boys to come in here, so you may go out.' 

I found that I had got into the wrong place, and hurried out. 
On the opposite side of the road, was rather a poor-looking 
house ; I will try here, I thought, and see if I can make out any 
better ; and entering the gate, I went up to the house, and 
rapped at the door. A little girl came, and kindly asked me to 
come in. I told her that I was hungry, and asked her if she 
would give me something to eat, and let me stop there that 
night. She asked me to come into the house, and she would 
6peak to her mother, who was at work in the garden. I went 
in and sat down, while the girl went out to call her mother, who 
soon came in ; and while she stopped to wash in the entry, I 



60 THE SOLDIER'S WIFE'S PITY. 

heard her remark, ' Poor boy ! he looks hungry and tired ! Come, 
my daughter, set something on the table for him, and always 
remember to " Do unto others as ye would that others should 
do unto you.'" Those Words, how often had I heard them 
said before, — strange, I thought, this woman should repeat them. 
The girl hastily complied with her mother's request, and placed 
before me good healthy food, to which I did ample justice. 

After eating, I asked the woman if she would let me stay all 
night in the house, telling her that I would sleep on the floor. 

'I will let you stay,' she said, 'but you may sleep on a bod.' 

4 But, madam, I am a stranger to you, and I have been turned 
away from two places; and in one place, I asked the man to let 
me sleep in his barn, but he would not.' 

4 1 know how to pity the unfortunate, and I always remem- 
ber in mercy those that have no shelter at night — no pillow to 
lay their heads upon. My husband,' she continued, ' is a sol- 
dier, and I am a soldier's wife ; and no one that seeks shelter of 
me shall be turned from the door as Ions; as I have a shelter to 
cover me.' 

'God bless you, madam,' I ejaculated, before I was aware of 
it. 

1 But I suppose that you are tired, and if you will follow me, 
I will show you where you can sleep ; ' and leading the way 
into the attic, she pointed me to a neat bed, and bidding me 
good-night, left me. I slept sweetly that night, and when I 
awoke, the sun was just rising. I arose and dressed myself, 
and went down stairs, and found the good woman was up, and 
the little girl was setting the table. I noticed three plates on 
the table, and I could not help wondering who the third plate 
was for, as I saw but two persons in the house ; I took my cap, 
and telling the woman that I would hurry along, I thanked her, 
and was going out of the door, when she called me back, and 
said : 

* You must have some breakfast ; what we have, you are en- 
tirely welcome to.' 



BEGGING STILL FOR BREAD. 61 

I took off my cap and sat down to the table, and ate my 
breakfast with them. I then knew for whom the third plate 
was put on the tabic — it was for me. I finished my breakfast, 
and thanking the woman for her kindness, I took my leave, and 
continued my journey. I had some fourteen miles to travel to 
reach Bradford, and I thought I would try and go that distance 
without asking for anything to eat on the way ; but when I had 
gone half the distance, I felt faint and tired, and I sat down 
beside the road to recover myself. I rested about half an hour, 
and then resumed my journey, but I felt hungry. I had been 
kept so poorly while I was confined in the jail, that I could 
now hardly restrain my appetite. I found that I must beg 
something to eat, and as the nearest house was a large brick 
one, I felt rather backward about asking for anything there, 
but my appetite was clamoring loudly, and I hastened up to 
the hquse, and rang a bell ; the door was opened by a portly 
gentleman. 

' Will you give me something to eat ? ' I said, timidly. He 
stared at me for some time, and then remarked: 

1 We do not encourage beggars here,' and shut the door in 
my face. 

I might have known better than to call there, I said to my- 
self, it is not the large houses where^the people have large 
hearts, but the small ones. So intent was I with my thoughts, 
that I did not see a boy at my side, until he said, 'I overheard 
the talk you had with that man ; come with me to my mother's, 
and you shall have as much as you want.' Taking me by the 
hand, he fairly ran with me along the road, until he came to a 
small, neat-looking house, with a yard in front, filled with flow- 
ers. ' Here is where my mother lives,' he said. 

'Have you no father?' I asked. 

'No,' he replied, 'my father has been dead a number of years. 
I have a sister and a kind mother. 

We had now reached the house. 



62 THE MOTHERLY HEABT. 

'Mother,' he said, running up to her, while I stood by the 
door, ' here is a poor boy that wants something to eat.' 

'Well, my son,' she said, 'he shall have something;' and 
then addressing me, said, ' Come in and sit up to the table, and 
I will give you something to eat.' 

I sat down to the table, and eagerly ate what she sat before 
me, as I was very hungry. I answered the many questions she 
asked, and having finished my meal, thanked her for her kind- 
ness, and went on my way. 

It was but a short distance from Bradford, as the woman had 
told me ; I therefore hurried on as fast as I could, and soon ar- 
rived there. I felt somewhat afraid to go to my old employer, 
and therefore went to a woman that I knew, who kindly gave 
me something to eat, and I stopped there that night. I arose 
early, and went to another mill and got work. I had worked 
here but a short time, before my old employer came for me, 
and I went to work with him again. 

A short time after, there was a riot, occasioned by reducing 
the wages of the help employed in the mills. Some of the men 
plugged the boilers, letting the steam off, so that the mills 
stopped. A great crowd collected near the counting-house, and 
began to throw brickbats through the windows. A company 
of the 17th Lancers was called out, and a man standing near 
me threw a brickbat which struck one of the horse-soldiers, 
who immediately wheeled his horse, and dashed out of the 
ranks, and chased the man into the river, over which he swam, 
and saved his life. 

The riot act was read, and they were then commanded to dis- 
perse immediately ; but not obeying, the Lancers made an attack, 
riding clown many ; and the people, finding that they would be 
killed, unless they dispersed, went to their homes. I was with 
one William Ackroid at that time, and we went to our board- 
ing-house. He worked in the same mill that I did, and we 
were in the habit of going down into the firing-room, where the 
boilers were, and talking with the men, , One day I asked Ack- 



EXPLOSION AND NARROW ESCAPE. 63 

roid to go with me into the firing-room. As we were going 
into the firing-room, the fireman spoke to some men that were 
in there, and said that he was afraid that the boiler would burst, 
and advised them to come out, but they only laughed at him. 
The words had hardly escaped his lips, before the boiler burst. 
Ackroid and myself, upon hearing the fireman, stopped outside 
the firing-room. There were in the room three men and a boy, 
besides two masons who were repairing the furnace. One of 
the men escaped by a trap-door, the others, inhaling the hot 
steam, immediately ran into the street, and dropped clown, and 
were taken by some men and carried to the Infirmary. The 
two masons that were repairing the furnace had to walk through 
water boiling hot, that was a foot in depth, to get out of the 
room. These two men were carried also to the Infirmary. I 
had gone to the Infirmary, and was in the room when they 
brought them in ; it was a sad scene. They could live but a short 
time; two* of them were young men, in the prime of life. One 
was about to be married, and his betrothed fainted when she 
came into the room. The friends of the others were gathered 
around them, to take a final leave. I have witnessed many sad 
and solemn scenes, but none is impressed so indelibly upon my 
mind as this one. How merciful was God to me, and how had 
he spared my life, while others perished around me ! Why was 
I spared through all these accidents ? 



64 ENLISTING AND BEJECTMENT. 



CHAPTER IX. 



The next morning after the sad accident, by which five lives 
were lost, I said to Ackroid, ' Let us go and enlist.' He said 
that he would, and we decided to. start the next morning ; but 
he was afraid that I would tell his parents, and ran away before 
the time, and enlisted in the 17th company of Lancers. He 
came and told me what he had done, and I started for the ren- 
dezvous, and enlisted in the 61st Regiment. The next morn- 
ing I went to one place, while he went to another, and I had 
enlisted for twenty-one years. I had to go to Leeds to pass 
through the surgeon's hands for examination . , I passed, but 
when measured I fell short three-fourths of an inch of the re- 
quired height. Thus my fond hope of being a soldier was cut 
short. 

I had given up all hopes of ever seeing Ackroid again, and felt 
extremely sorry, as we had been boon companions for some 
time. When I got back to Bradford, I went and told his 
mother that her son had enlisted in the army, and upon hear- 
ing it, she fainted away, but throwing some water in her face, 
she recovered. 

The next day, while walking the street, I saw Ackroid across 
the way, and hastening over, shook him by the hand, and asked 
him why he was not with the army. He replied that he was 
rejected by the surgeon. I felt glad that he was, and we both 
went to work in the mill again, weaving. 

One evening, there was a celebration of some kind, and fire- 
works on the common. Besides Ackroid and myself, there were 
two more young men with us, named Charles Green and Joseph 



FOUR OF US RUNNING OFF. 65 

Ring's, and we all agreed that night that we would run away 
the next morning, and we set a time and place to meet. The 
next morning we were all there, faithful to our promises, and 
started for Liverpool, about seventy-two miles distant. I had 
some clothes at my uncle William's, whose house was on the 
road that we were to travel, and when we arrived there, I told 
my companions to wait for me, while I went in and got my 
clothes. The folks were all gone away, excepting one of my 
cousins, and I told her that I wanted to get my clothes, and 
went up-stairs, and put them on over my other clothes, and then 
came down. My cousin asked me, as I came down, if I was go- 
ing to Halifax. I told her I was not, but was going another 
way, and perhaps she might never see me again. Tears filled 
her eyes, and I turned and hurried from the house, ashamed to 
let her see the tears that were trickling down my face. We 
then continued our way to Liverpool. We had gone about 
eight miles from Bradford, when we began to feel hungry, and 
as none of us had any money, I pawned a cap (as I had two 
with me) for half a crown, and with this money I bought some 
bread for us to eat. We then journeyed until night when we 
arrived at Rochester, tired and foot sore. We managed to get 
a bed which we all four had to occupy, which was rather snug 
quarters. We were awakened in the morning by hearing the 
wooden clogs, worn by the girls, clattering upon the sidewalk, as 
they went into the mill. We arose, and went down stairs, and 
having paid for our lodgings, which took all my money, we 
started on our way again. We traveled five or six miles, when 
we began to feel hungry. I went up to a house, and asked the 
woman if she would give me something to eat, but she told me 
to go home and get something to eat, if I wanted anything. I 
then asked her for a drink of water, which she gave me, and we 
all drank, and started on our way, and soon arrived at Man- 
chester. We passed through a few streets in the city, when we 
came to a broker's office ; I there pawned a vest and handker- 
chief, and with the money we satisfied the pangs of hunger, 
5 



6Q ENLISTING WHILE DRUNK. 

which had troubled us exceedingly the last four miles. The 
money lasted us until we arrived at Liverpool, when we went 
down to the dock, and hired out on board a man-of-war, for 
seven years. We then started up town to see the city. Pass- 
ing through one of the streets, we were invited into a recruit- 
ing rendezvous, where we were treated by the sergeant to beer; 
he then measured us (as he said) in sport, to see how tall we 
were ; one of us, he said, coulcl'nt get into the army. He then 
gave three of us that were tall enough, beer sufficient to get us 
intoxicated, and then conducted us to a bed up-stairs. The 
next morning we were somewhat surprised to find ourselves in 
the place we did. We arose and went down stairs, and met 
the recruiting sergeant, who told us that we had enlisted in the 
army. We told him that we had not. He then spoke to the 
keeper of the house, and asked him if he did not see us take 
rfche enlistment money. (When a person enlists, he is paid one 
shilling, and when sworn in a half crown more.) 

'Yes,' said the keeper, 'I saw them take the money, and put 
it in their pockets. Come, young men,' he continued, 'just feel 
in your pockets, and I guess that you all can produce the shil- 
ling.' 

Feeling confident that the money was not in our pockets, we 
each one unhesitatingly put our hands into them, and as a mat- 
ter of course, produced a shilling piece. 'There/ said the ser- 
geant, ' what's the use of trying to lie out of it ? You must go 
with me to the magistrate and be sworn.' We were somewhat 
surprised to find the shilling pieces in our pockets, but I came 
to the conclusion that they were put there while we were in- 
toxicated. To get out of the scrape we should have to pay 
twenty-one shillings, which is called 'smart-money.' We were 
in for it now, and as I thought of the mean tricks that were 
practiced, of which this played upon us was a specimen, to get 
young men into the army, my opinion of it diminished exceed- 
ingly, but not so much as it has since. Near ten years in the 
English army were long enough to convince me that the offi- 



sworn nr. 67 

cers, many of them, were never soldiers or privates, but pur- 
chased their commissions by paying a certain sum of money, 
and were therefore more tyrannical, and their discipline and 
the mean living that the young recruits had, would not be very 
strong inducements for young men to enlist. 

We went before a magistrate and were sworn, and then re- 
ceived half a crown apiece. We were now fully launched out 
into life, and thought that we would soon be on our way to the 
field of glory and fame, to reap honor and win laurels that none 
but a soldier can win. So we thought at that time, but we 
found afterwards that winning laurels and wearing them were 
two different things, — the soldiers win laurels, and the officers 
wear them. "We were taken from Liverpool to London, and 
were then billeted out. Ackroid and myself were sent togeth- 
er about two miles to an inn. We arrived there, but the keeper 
having no room for us, gave us half a crown to pay our lodg- 
ings at some other place. Being unacquainted with the city, 
we did not find any place, and Ave therefore started for the re- 
cruiting sergeant's quarters, and as Ackroid and myself could 
not agree as to which street to take to carry us back, he took 
one way, and I another. I was more lucky than Ackroid, and 
arrived at the sergeant's quarters, and stopped that night. The 
next morning Ackroid was missing, and the sergeant directed 
the police to look him up, but they were not successful. We 
were detained by this two days. The second day, in the fore- 
noon, I went down into a square where the Queen's Guards 
were parading. There were thousands witnessing the scene, 
and I saw Ackroid in the distance. I knew him in a moment 
by his white head, and made my way through the crowd where 
he was. He was glad to see me ; the old difficulty that sepa- 
rated us was forgotten, and we went to the sergeant's quarters. 
We might have run away easily, but the sergeant had told us 
that we should go together, and praised us up exceedingly, by 
telling us we were cut out for soldiers. He took us with the 
other recruits aboard the cars, and went to Portsmouth. Here 



68 GETTING OUR HEADS SHAVED. 

we stopped one night, and were placed in the guard-room, and 
sentries placed over us. We slept on nothing but boards for a 
bed. The next morning we continued our journey, and took 
the steamboat for the Isle of Wight, and arriving there, wo 
traveled four miles to our barracks. Here we thought we could 
take our ease and live like gentlemen, but how soon we found 
our mistake ; instead of ease and comfort, we found it a life of 
bondage, and to drown our sorrows, we had recourse to the ale- 
house. The first night in the barracks we spent in the ' dry- 
room,' where they put prisoners. Some straw was put upon an 
iron bedstead, upon which I slept. I well remember that night, 
for I rolled out of my cot (it was only two feet wide) upon the 
floor, which made the rats, which infested the place, scamper to 
their holes. The next morning, the barber came and shaved 
our heads closely. I told him that the recruiting sergeant said 
that we might wear our hair long, but the barber told us he had 
his duty to perform, and that we might as well dry up. After 
this was done, we were passed over to the surgeon's hands, and 
then we went back to our barracks, and put on our regimental 
clothes. My old clothes I sold for two quarts of beer, and my 
companion did the same with his. The first thing we had to 
learn was our drill. Before breakfast we had to drill one hour, 
then again from eleven to twelve, and from three to four o'clock 
in the afternoon ; making three hours a day, and the remainder 
we most always had work of some kind to do. The soldiers 
had two meals a day; the first at eight o'clock in the morning, 
and the other at one p. m. Our morning rations consisted of 
one pound of brown bread and a bowl of coffee ; this brown 
bread was sometimes so soft, that when thrown against the wall, 
it would stick there. At dinner, we had a pound of meat, and 
two-and-half-pence allowed each man, to buy sugar, tea, etc. 
In the barracks where I was quartered, there were in each room 
seventeen, where they lived, slept, ate, and worked. At our 
meals, two officers served out the rations, consisting of meat 
soup, to each soldier. I could not say they showed partiality, 



HOW TO DIVIDE THE SOUP. 69 

but it looked like it. They would proportionate the meat soup 
out, and then one would stand with his face to the wall, while 
the other officer would hold up a plate, and ask, c Who is this 
for?' The officer whose face was towards the wall, would say, 
for B and so on ; and in this way, they would pass through with 
the whole. I was the youngest in the room, and somehow or 
other, if there was a large bone without much meat upon it, I 
was sure to get it. I stood this as long as I could, and at last 
I told the color sergeant how I fared, and he changed me into 
another room, but here I did not fare much better. 



70 FLOGGING BY THE PULPIT. 



CHAPTER X. 

Ackroid and myself used to drill together, and often talk of 
home, and wish we were out of the service, as we had seen 
enough of it. One day there was a young man confined for 
losing some of his clothes, or disposing of them. This man 
was put into the guard-room, and tried by a regimental court- 
martial, and sentenced to receive one hundred and fifty lashes 
with the cat-o'-nine-tails, a whip with nine lashes. At the close 
of the court-martial, the bugler sounded for orders. The orders 
that day were, that on the next day there should be a parade 
of all those w T ho were off duty and out of hospital, and a court- 
martial read on parade. The next day at ten o'clock the bugle 
sounded for the soldiers to dress ; and in half an hour, the bu- 
gle sounded for them to fall into rank and file. After we had 
formed our lines for marching, the word was given, * Quick 
march.' We were then marched into the ' riding school,' as 
they call it, where the flogging was done. Here the young re- 
cruits were marched up alongside where the person was to be 
flogged, that they might by this become hardened, and kept in 
fear. I remember that Ackroid at this time was beside me. In 
this riding school, where they did the flogging, the minister held 
up a crucified Saviour, and the culprit was tied to the pulpit in 
which he stood. Many have I seen sacrificed upon the altar, 
but it was not acceptable sacrifice. The buglers of each com- 
pany, and the drum-major of the depot of soldiers, are stationed 
beside the victim. The drummers do the flogging; a number 
being selected out, and each one gives twenty-five lashes, and 
if there are not drummers enough to make out the one hundred 
and fifty, the first one gives twenty-five more, and so goes round 
again, until the full complement is given. ' The drummer, roll- 



nOW WHIPPING IS DONE. 71 

ing up his sleeve, grasps the 'cat' firmly in his hand, and raising 
it slowly over his head, brings it down with his whole strength 
upon the bare back of the poor victim, making the blood fly, 
and counting every blow given, until he has given twenty-five, 
and then resigns the whip to his successor. Every person un- 
acquainted would naturally suppose, that when a person is 
whipped, and the one who inflicts the blows has no enmity 
against the prisoner, that the' blows would be light, but it is not 
so; each one takes pride in striking a heavy blow, and the one 
that can strike the hardest is considered the best fellow. Thus 
the prisoner always gets a dreadful whipping. 

When the prisoner had received his one hundred and fifty 
lashes, a white cloth, saturated with salt and water, was then 
thrown over his back, and thus pickled, he was sent to the hos- 
pital, where he stayed until his back was well. Sometimes 
when a soldier is whipped, he has a lead bullet put into his 
mouth, to chew, that he may be kept from biting his tongue, 
and I have seen it taken out after they were whipped, ground 
in pieces. In my regiment, there was a full corporal, a man that 
was despised by all the soldiers that were under him. He 
would confine the soldiers when they had been drinking, and 
endeavor to get them court-martialed, that they might receive a 
whipping. The soldiers were determined, in some way or other, 
to get this man whipped. 

One day this corporal, with some soldiers, went to Newport 
to a tavern, when the soldiers and the corporal drank; the cor- 
poral got intoxicated, and the soldiers left him at a house of bad 
repute, where he stopped three days. The officers, supposing 
he had deserted, sent out detachments of soldiers, and scoured 
the country around, to endeavor to find him. The third day he 
was found at the house referred to, and some of his clothing 
was gone. He was brought before a garrison court-martial, and 
was sentenced to receive one hundred and fifty lashes. This 
pleased the soldiers exceedingly. It used to be a favorite ex- 
pression with him, when a soldier was whipped, and he cried 



72 SOW THE CORPORAL CAUGHT IT. 

out, or even groaned, ' That he was a coward, — a baby.' One 
of the drummers, who was to wield the ' cat,' belonging to the 
regiment of which the prisoner was corporal, was six feet two 
inches in height, a very robust and powerfully built man, and 
said in my hearing, the morning of the punishment, ' I will 
make him cry out, or my arm shall come off;' and as he said 
the words, he stretched forth his muscular arm, and no one 
doubted but what he would be as good as his word. I was on 
sentry at the time of the flogging, and every blow struck, 
caused the flesh and blood to fly about me. The flesh was 
whipped, off from one of his shoulder blades, so that the bone 
was bare. But I will not dwell upon this disgraceful scene, 
which was too degrading for human beings to be engaged in. 
Thank God! the whipping in the army has been abolished! 
The poor victim was taken to the hospital, and remained about 
a month before he was able to be upon duty again ; his badges 
were taken off, and he was made a private. This, in itself, is 
considered a great disgrace to an officer. There was flogging 
about once in three weeks ; sometimes oftener. I came near 
getting one hundred and fifty lashes, soon after I came into the 
army. One night I was upon sentry, box number six, and near 
by was an apple orchard, the trees being loaded with fruit. I 
left my station, and went to the orchard and filled my hat with 
apples. I made as much haste as possible, that I might get 
back to my box before the half-hour call came round again. I 
was returning when I heard the cry from number one, c All's 
well!' and thus it continued through the numbers, until it came 
to number six, my station, and no cry was heard. I had not 
reached it, and the sentry in station seven cried out, l All's not 
well ! ' And thus it went through all the numbers. Number 
one cried out, 'All's not well!' which brought out the sergeant 
with a file of soldiers, and they immediately went to number 
twelve. The sentry there said, ' All's not well ! ' number eleven ; 
and thus it was followed back, until they came to number seven, 
and there the sentry told the sergeant that no cry was heard 



AN AWFUL DEATH. 73 

from number six. In the meanwhile I had got back to my box, 
leaving my apples outside ; and the sergeant asked me why I 
did not cry out ' All's well ! ' I knew that I must tell the best 
story for myself that I could, and I told him that I was think- 
ing of home, and forgot to give the signal. The sergeant was 
friendly to me, and gave me some advice in regard to the mat- 
ter, and told me that if some other sergeant had been in the 
guard-room at the time, I should not have escaped a flogging. 
He then left me, and I never heard of the matter again, but 
felt under great obligations to him for pardoning me at that 
time for such neglect of duty. 

One night I was on sentry at the hospital, when a man named 
Stinson was carried by me, on a table, by four men, to the hos- 
pital. He was a man of fine education and of superior abili- 
ties, and had left his regiment in the East Indies, on account of 
his health, and come to the Isle of Wight. He was a great 
drunkard, and a wicked and profane man, and he always boast- 
ed, as he was an infidel, that when he died, he would go out of 
the world like a roaring bull. When he was carried by me, he 
was roaring like a bull ; he was in a state of delirium tremens, 
for three days and nights, and made, this noise continually. 
The fourth night after he was carried to the hospital, between 
the hours of eleven and twelve o'clock, he was carried by two 
men to the dead-house, on a sheet. His hair was torn from 
his head, and he was so mangled that he could not be recog- 
nized. I was put the next night sentry over the dead-house, 
and my orders were to kick on the door of the dead-house 
every ten minutes, to keep the rats away from the dead that 
were in there. I did not like the situation. I seemed to see 
Stinson before me all the time, and made an exchange with 
another soldier, and took his place, and he took mine. 

I remained at the Isle of Wight about nine months, when an 
order was received from the Horse Guards, for a draft of the 
97th Regiment and the Rifle Brigade, to fill vacancies at Corfu, 
and I felt joyful to leave this place. Our accoutrements were 



74 THE SAD PARTING. 

examined, and we were given firelocks said to be ours, with 
locks off, and many of them with the breech broken, and we 
were charged so much for repairs, and then good ones were 
given us, and the old ones kept, probably to pass off on the 
next draft that was made. In a few days we were in readiness 
to go to Corfu ; the bugle sounded for us to fall into rank and 
file. There were one hundred in the whole, and we were or- 
dered to march forthwith to Dedford. We were marched down 
the barracks, while the band played * The girl I left behind me;' 
and many of the soldiers, having married without the consent 
of the commanding officer, were obliged to leave their wives 
and children behind them. All aronnd me, the soldiers were 
shaking hands, and kissing their wives, and bidding them adieu, 
probably for the last time. There was no one to bid me fare- 
well, or to shake the friendly hand ; no one to shed a parting 
tear for me; and, as I looked upon the scene, I thought, oh! 
that I had a friend to bid farewell, it would seem to relieve me; 
for my heart was fall, as I saw the tears trickle down the sun- 
burnt cheeks of the rough soldiers, and the mothers holding up 
their young babes that they might kiss them before they left. 

But there is an end to parting. The word was given, ' Quick 
march,' and we hastened on. We had to march four miles to 
Cowes, where we were to take the steamboat, and as I never 
marched with a knapsack on before, I thought that I should 
sink beneath my heavy burden. We took the steamboat for 
Portsmouth, and then the cars for London. From London we 
marched to Dedford, and there we were billeted out for the 
night. Another young man and myself were billeted together. 
We were sent by twos and threes, and I wished to be sent with 
Ackroid, but they sent us as was most convenient to them. In 
the morning, we had to meet in the clock-yard; the bugler 
sounded for us to fall in. 

We went aboard the ship, and went below, and took off our 
knapsacks, and then had to go to work upon deck. We were 
three days and nights going down the channel, and the third 



SAILING FOR TLJE MEDITERRANEAN. 75 

day wo arrived at Cove-of-Cork. There we stopped three days, 
and took in the 34th Regiment, and then sailed for the Mediter- 
ranean. While we were on our way, a young soldier picked up 
a * chin-strap ' (a strap that goes under the chin to keep on the 
military cap). This young man inquired for the owner, but not 
finding him, he used the strap for himself. The owner in a 
short time noticed it, and knowing that it was his, made a com- 
plaint to the commanding officer, and the young man was made 
a prisoner, tried for stealing before a regimental court-martial, 
was found guilty, sentenced to be tied to the main-mast, and 
receive fifty lashes. This young soldier slept in the hammock 
beneath me, and when they took him to be flogged, he plead his 
innocence, but was carried upon the deck, and received his num- 
ber of lashes. He received a severe flogging; the flesh was left 
in ridges, and the blood ran down upon the deck. After his 
flogging he was covered over with a white cloth, soaked in salt 
and water, and then put in his hammock. He was said to have 
been a fine young man, and one that would have made himself 
conspicuous, but the whipping crushed his spirits. He had been 
full of life and activity, but from that time he was sullen and 
morose, and would not hold conversation with any one. One 
day we were sailing along, about thirteen knots an hour; the 
breeze increasing, the studding-sail tore out of the bolt-ropes, 
and a number of us were called upon deck, and told to go aloft, 
and assist in taking in sail ; and as the soldiers were inexperi- 
enced, one of our number fell overboard, and was lost. The 
gale increased, and at night it was my watch on deck. It blew 
now almost a hurricane, all sail was taken in, and we wero scud- 
ding along under bare poles. I went by one of the port-holes, 
and laid down, and while there, a wave dashed over the side, 
unshipping the gun, and I was carried along by the wave, but 
caught the halliards, and thus saved myself from being swept 
over the ship's side. The crew were called up, and the soldiers 
spiked down beneath the deck. At times, the waves made a 
complete breach over her, and she leaned so that her spars at 



76 STEALING FROM THE HOGS. 

times touched the water. At the dawn of day, the gale abated 
somewhat, and we found that a number had been washed over- 
board. I looked around for Ackroid, but could not find him 
above or below deck, and thought that he must have been 
washed overboard. As he had been very sea-sick, I expected 
that he was gone, and that I never should see him again. 
While searching, I thought of a place under the long-boat, 
where a man could just get in, and going there, found Ackroid. 
He was wet through, and had laid his head down upon some 
tar, which held him fast. Before he could be removed, I found it 
necessary to get a knife, and cut away a portion of his hair; and 
having procured some water, I washed him, and he revived. I 
then went up where the hogs were kept, and stole their break- 
fast, — black biscuit ; and I believe I never felt so cheap as I did 
when I stole the bread from the hogs; but I felt that the neces- 
sity of the case demanded it, and asserting 4 border rights,' I 
boldly entered the pen (the very last place where I should have 
thought of picking up a living), and by dextrous management, 
succeeded in obtaining something to satisfy the cravings of my 
appetite. Those biscuits tasted quite as sweet to me as the 
nicest bread I have ever eaten since. 



GETTING INTO COBFU. 77 



CHAPTER XI. 

• 

We reached Gibraltar, and there we took in some water, and 
continued our way to Corfu. We had sailed some two days, 
when we had a dead calm that lasted three days. We forgot 
about the gale we had experienced, and the fiddle and the flute 
sounded merrily upon the deck, whilst the sailors and the sol- 
diers danced to the music; and for three days nothing but 
songs and merriment were heard. The soldiers were allowed 
a glass of rum a day, but as Ackroid was sick, I took his share, 
and I then had more than my allowance of rum, and have for 
many years since. The fourth day, a fine breeze set in, which 
soon carried us to the shores of Italy, where I could plainly see 
the burning lava upon the sides of Mt. Vesuvius, that cast a 
beautiful mellow light, in the evening, upon the hills around. 
After a somewhat long voyage, we dropped anchor in Corfu, in 
Greece, and went ashore. This place seemed cursed with the 
worst kind of people. The grossest corruption pervaded all 
classes; justice was openly bought and sold. One writer says, 
'When they were placed under the rule of England they were 
lazy, ignorant, cowardly, superstitious, and blood-thirsty.' San- 
dys, one of the best English travelers who ever visited the 
Levant, writes thus in 1610 : 'They will threaten to kill a mer- 
chant that will not buy their commodities, and make more con- 
science to break a fast than commit a murder; he is weary of 
his life that hath a difference with any of them, and will walk 
abroad after daylight. The laborers do go into the fields with 
swords and partisans, as if in an enemy's country, bringing 
home their oils and wines in hog-skins, the inside turned out.' 



78 CLIMATE AND SICKNESS, 

Dr. Holland, w ho visited this place in 1812, says, 'that the 
number of assassinations in Zante has been more than one for 
each day in the year, though the population was only 40,000.' 
Corfu, from its proximity to the snowy mountains and also the 
black mountains of the interior, is subject to very sudden 
changes of temperature, and, in the hot seasons, is terribly un- 
healthy, a consequence in part from the vapors arising from 
the marshes of the shallow seas to the north-east. Booths were 
built for the guards to stand under in the hot season, and I 
have stood under my shelter, when on guard, when it was so 
hot that a piece of beef could be tossed from where I stood on 
to the rocks, and be tolerably cooked in ten minutes, and facing, 
at the same time, the mountains that were in plain sight, whose 
summits were capped with snow. It was no wonder so many 
English soldiers died here like rotten sheep. There were six 
hundred men that came from the Isle of Wight to Corfu, many 
of whom died. One regiment, by a fatal malady, lost every 
man but one. The 34th Regiment went to 'Bell Barracks,' 
and those of us that belonged to the Rifle Brigade and 
the 97th Regiment went to the citadel or fortress. Our draft 
was put in the marine guard-room, and then the soldiers 
hurried down to see us, hoping to find some one they knew. I 
saw one young man that came from the same place that Ack- 
roid and I did, and we were very glad to meet one another so 
many miles from home. This young man went immediately 
and got a quart of wine and some refreshments to treat us with, 
and we felt so happy with the rest of the soldiers, and made so 
much noise, that one of the officers told the captain, and he 
came and spoke to us, and said these word : ' Young men, you 
have got into a place where there are no back doors, through 
which you can run home to your mothers.' 

The next day we were ordered to wash and dress ourselves, 
and were then paraded before the commanding officer. Our 
place of parade was on the esplanade, and when we arrived 
there, the officers were waiting to take us, to the different com- 



THE DOCTOR'S MURDER. 79 

panics, there being sixteen in the whole. I was picked out for 
the Light Infantry, and Ackroid was chosen for the second com- 
pany, and thus we were about to be separated. The thought 
of this began to make me feel bad, and I could not restrain my- 
self, and the tears began to flow down my face. One of the 
adjutants seeing that I was crying, said, 'What are you weep- 
ing for?' I told him that the young man with a white head 
had always been with me, and that we had enlisted together, 
and that as we were about to be separated, it made me sad. 
He went immediately to the commanding officer, and got Ack- 
roid into the company with me. We had then our arms and 
accoutrements served out to us. The first thing we now had to 
do, was to learn our drill, which was somewhat different from 
that we had learned at the Isle of Wight. Some of the soldiers 
were sent to the reserve battalion, in West Indies, and the 
others were in the first battalion, in the Ionian Islands. There 
was a poor simple fellow that came with us, who could not learn 
his drill, and he was sent to Zante, and there they could not 
make anything of him. The doctor said that he was making 
it, and that he could bring him out, so he was sent to the hos- 
pital. The doctor one day heated an iron poker, and with this 
he burned the young man so badly that he died. The same 
doctor, a short time after, died a very sudden death, which 
pleased all the soldiers, and he was brought to Corfu to be 
buried. A volley was fired over his grave, and I thought at the 
time that I would much rather have fired a bullet at him, than 
a blank cartridge over him. We soon had to mount guard, and 
the first time I was on, the heat of the sun so overpowered me, 
that I fell down senseless, and was taken up and carried to the 
hospital. I recovered soon, and came out of the hospital, al- 
though hardly able to stand. I was next put on guard upon 
Mt. Tabor, over the Greek prisoners. My watch was two hours, 
and no place that I was ever on sentry was so desolate and sol- 
emn as that. I could hear the rattling of the chains of the 
prisoners j also the wild boars on the sides of the mountain. 



80 GIRLS VISITING THE PRISON. 

During the night, the corporal brought a pail full of wine, which 
was drank by the soldiers on duty. I was sentry over the old 
senate, so called, and there was one prisoner in there that had 
been confined thirty years in one cell, and had not seen the 
light, only through the gratings of the window ; he seemed to 
be happy, for I heard him singing Greek songs. In the next 
cell |here was a young man, and when I was on sentry, two 
young Greek girls came to see this prisoner. They entreated 
me to let them carry some luxuries to him, and I could not 
withstand their earnest pleading, but let them go into the cell. 
If I had been, caught in this act, I should have been confined, 
and probably got severely jmnished. 

The sergeant, one evening, went out of town, and got some 
wine, and while he was away, some of the other officers brought 
wine to the soldiers, and before he returned the guard a? ere in- 
toxicated, and the next clay when we were relieved, one of the 
guardsmen was confined for getting drunk, and the following 
day received one hundred and fifty lashes. There were sixteen 
flogged that day for getting drunk, when upon garrison duty. 
When I saw these poor fellows flogged, I thought to myself, 
that I never would get drunk when on duty. In a few days 
after, I was warned for garrison picket, and a corporal asked me 
to go out of town with him. We w^ent to a wine shop, and 
there drank some two quarts of wine, and became j>artially in- 
toxicated, and when I arrived at the barracks, was confined for 
getting drunk. I had been in the guard-room a short time, 
when one of the men said that I should get a flogging, and this 
sobered me in a minute, and I spoke to the sergeant of the guard, 
and told him I was not drunk. ' But,' said he, 4 you are con- 
fined for getting drunk.' All the soldiers said I was not drunk. 
That night I did not sleep much, expecting that the next day 
I should be more intimately acquainted with the cat-o-ninc-tails, 
with whose satanic majesty I desired no intimacy. The follow- 
ing day I was carried before the commander, and he told me 
that I was reported as having been drunk when on duty. I 



ROBBING THE OLD JEW. 81 

told the sergeant that I was not drunk, and that I could prove 
it by the soldiers. 'But,' said he, 'the sergeant said that you 
was drunk. Young man,' he continued, ' you are commencing 
too soon to lead a bad life, but I think we will punish you.' I 
begged that he would not, as I had always tried to obey the 
discipline. The commander said, 'As you are a youngster, I 
will forgive you this time, but never be brought before me again; 
if you do, you will have to suffer the penalty for transgressing 
the rules.' I escaped the 'cat' again, and I made up my mind 
that I never would run the risk of a whipping, by getting in- 
toxicated when upon duty. 

There was a rich Jew that kept a shop in the fortress, where 
he sold wines and other things to the soldiers. He was as snug 
and exacting a person as could be met with. He used to sell 
what they called 'black puddings,' to the soldiers, who said that 
they were made out of rats ; but the soldiers, when they went 
in there, would get liquor to drink, and then they would eat 
anything. The soldiers used to say, that if a person would rob 
him, it would be a good deed. One night, as I was on sentry, 
I thought to myself, I will rob that Jew, and as he has stolen 
money away from the soldiers, when they were drunk, it will be 
no worse for me to steal from him ; and with this thought, I put 
my gun down, and went to his door, and tried to open it, but it 
was fast. I then put my shoulder against it, and pushed it open, 
and went in, and opened the money drawer. I put my hand in, 
and found some farthings ; and in another drawer, I found a 
sovereign piece, and some small silver pieces, but I left the small 
pieces, as the sovereign was enough for me, and went out and 
shut the door. I went away a short distance, and buried the 
sovereign piece in the ground. I then went back to my post, 
and had just arrived there, when a sentry came to relieve me. 
When I arrived at the guard-room, I laid down upon*the bed, 
but felt somewhat uneasy about the deed, as I remembered what 
the orders were; and if a soldier when on duty left his post, to 
go away for plunder, that the penalty was a severe one. The 
6 



82 HIDING THE MONEY. 

next day, when the Jew came to his shop, he found it had been 
broken open and robbed, and he went and told the sergeant. 
The sergeant said that he could not believe it; but the Jew 
took him along with him to Ins shop, and showed that it had 
been broken open. The sergeant went to the soldiers that had 
been on sentry near there that night, and questioned them in 
regard to the affair. We all said we knew nothing about it. 
That night, I went, after I was off duty, down to the place 
where I buried my sovereign, and taking it to the money 
changers, got it changed into shilling pieces. I then went and 
found Ackroid, and we went out to the shops, and spent half a 
crown for wine and eatables. I left Ackroid, and went down 
to where the old batteries were, a short distance, and hid my 
money in an old rotten timber there, and then went back to bar- 
racks. The next day, I went to the old battery to get some 
money, but was somewhat surprised to find that it was all gone. 
Where it had gone was more than I could imagine, and I was 
pretty confident that no one followed me to the place ; but one 
thing was certain, my money was gone, and I felt then that the 
proverb, that ' riches certainly make themselves wings,' was a 
pretty true one. I came to the conclusion, as I went back to 
the barracks, never again to take anything that did not belong 
to me. They never knew, I believe, who committed the rob 
bery, and they did not exert themselves much to find out. 
The soldiers were glad of it, and the officers were not sorry. 
Perhaps one reason why the officers did not endeavor to find 
out who committed the deed was, that they did not believe the 
old Jew's story. They thought he had made it up to excite 
sympathy ; and then again, the officers said it was not likely that 
a soldier would have broken into the store, and then left silver 
scattered around ; and, upon the whole, they neither knew, nor 
cared much about it, and it therefore dropped. 

A few days after this, a barrack was to be built within the 
fortress, and I was chosen, with some other soldiers, to work 
on this one month. Our task was to wheel one thousand bricks 



1BISH CORPORAL. 83 

a day, some four hundred yards from the sea-shore, up to the 
barracks, which was a very hard job, as part of the distance 
was very steep, and I have sometimes slipped, and my bricks 
would come down on me, and my barrow would roll down over 
the hill. We had a corporal for a task-master over us. He 
sported white kid gloves and a cane, and was quite a gentle- 
man. In Ireland, where he came from, he was a turf-digger, and 
worked in the mud. I worked on the barracks about a month, 
and saw many flogged for drinking while at work there, and 
the task-master would swear that they were drunk, if they had 
taken any at all. 



84 BURYING A MAN ALIVE. 



CHAPTER XII. 



The batteries were situated upon a bluff, some two hundred 
and fifty feet high, near the sea. It was a level plot, upon 
which some two thousand could be accommodated. Above 
the batteries, on the top of this bluff, was the hospital and 
dead-house. A short time after I came here, there was one 
man in the hospital that was pronounced dead, or so near it, 
that it would be safe enough, as they thought, to put him in 
the dead-house, end he was therefore carried and put in there, 
and while there, the rats began to lay claim to him, which was 
the means of arousing him, and he got up and crept around as 
best he could. The sentry, hearing a noise in the dead-house, 
called the sergeant, and the soldiers turned out of the guard- 
room, but not one of them had courage enough to enter. At 
last they got a lantern, and, opening the door, they called out, 
4 Who's there?' They received no answer, but heard a noise, 
as if some person had fallen down. After some time they 
went in, and fcund the peer fellow, who was now dead. He 
was actually frightened to death. 

An incident happened when I was in Corfu, although not 
connected with me, which I cannot refrain from stating. A 
man named Rogers, that belonged to the Rifle Brigade, and had 
been a school-mate of the sergeant of the same company, got 
angry with him, as the sergeant, from some cause or other, took 
every opportunity that he could to confine him, aid determined 
to have his life. One night, Rogers took another man's fire- 
lock, and went to the sergeant's bed, and putting the muzzle of 
his gun to the sergeant's head, fired. The ,ball passed through 



THE MURDERER CAUGHT. 85 

his head, killing him, and clown into another room, into one of 
the soldier's cots. The alarm was given, and the firelocks ex- 
amined, to see which one had been loaded recently, and the 
owner of the giAi was arrested; but while being carried off, 
Rogers sprang from his cot, and said that he was the man that 
did the deed. The other soldier was released, and Rogers was 
taken and put into the dead -cell, and there confined to await, 
his trial. He was tried by a general court-martial, and was 
sentenced to be hung. On the morning of the execution, the 
prisoner appeared as lively as ever. At ten o'clock, the bugle 
sounded fur the soldiers to dress, and in half an hour, for them 
to fall in. All were marched up to witness the execution ; and 
when upon the scaffold, the prisoner made one of the most af- 
fecting speeches that had been heard for many a clay. He 
exposed the petty officers, how they tyrannized over the sol- 
diers, and concluded his remarks with such feeling, that the 
tears ran down the faces of the rough soldiers, and some of 
them, it was said, even fell in the ranks. At that time, his 
speech was heralded throughout the land as a remarkable one. 
Thus perished a scholar and a soldier; one that had every 
requisite qualification to make a man respected and honored by 
his countrymen. 

A short time after the execution, a soldier, belonging to the 
same regiment with myself, wanted to g<5 into town, and as 
sentries were stationed all around, he dressed himself as Rog- 
ers was dressed when carried to the place of execution. As he 
approached the sentries, they fled before him, as they thought 
he was Rogers' ghost ; and he succeeded in getting to town 
and back safe. Having made such a successful trip, he thought 
that he could go the next night, but an old soldier was on sen- 
try, an Irishman, called Tim. He was as bold as a lion, and 
nothing could frighten him ; and as Galgree (the name of the 
soldier) was passing him, he cried out, 'Who comes there?' 
No answer came, and he cried again, 'Who comes there?' 
But he received no answer, and again cried out, 



86 SOW TIM CAUGHT A GHOST. 

1 The divil take ye, by St. Pathrick, av ye cloant be after 
givin the signal, its meself that will make daylight shino 
through ye. Who comes there ? ' 

No answer came, and Tim snapped, but his firelock flashed 
in the pan, or poor Galgree would have made his last night's 
excursion. Tim now charged bayonet, and Galgree took to his 
heels, with Tim after him. He soon brought him to a stand 
between two high bluffs, when Galgree said, ' Tim, don't you 
know me ? ' 

4 By me soul, its meself that's not ackuanted with the likes ar 
ye,' said Tim. 

c But don't you know Galgree?* 
« ' Well, Galgree or no Galgree, av ye doant be after marching 
to the guard-room, I'll jist tickle ye with the pint of my bayo- 
net ; and faith an ye'll find that's meself that's too ould a sol- 
dier to be scared by the ghosteses.' 

Galgree marched toward the guard-room, with Tim following 
close at his heels, with the bayonet at his back, and, arriving at 
another sentry-box, the sentry, seeing the ghost of Rogers, as 
he supposed, with a screech, took to his heels. Tim still kept 
marching him along until he came to the guard-room, and then 
Ordered Galgree to open the door. The sergeant was making 
out his guard report when the door opened, and the ghost of 
Rogers stared him in the face. He was so frightened that he 
overturned the table, and the noise awakened the soldiers who 
were in the room ; and seeing Rogers' ghost in the door, some 
cursed and swore, while others shrunk into the back part of the 
room. Tim now began to get mad at the cowardice of the sol- 
diers, and bellowed out, 'The divil and sure Rogers has come 
back, and what a boald lot av soldiers ye are ; its meself that 
would not be afeerd to face a regemint like ye, an is it the likes 
av ye that are put on guard, thats afeerd of a shader ? this is 
nothing more than Galgree who is playing the ghosteses on us.' 

The words of Tim restored the soldiers to order again, and 
they began to come out and show themselves. Poor Galgreo 



SICK COMRADE. 87 

was taken up into a chamber and fastened in, and the next day 
he was brought before the commanding officer, who, when he 
was brought in, imitated the rest of the soldiers, and holding 
up his hands and starting back, to make fun of the frightened 
officers, he said, ' I thought we hung you the other day, but we 
will see if we can give you some more punishment ; ' and he 
gave orders for him to be tried by a court-martial, and he was 
sentenced to break stones fifty days where Rogers was hung. 

My companion Ackroid about this time was taken sick, and 
was carried to the hospital. What little money I obtained, I 
would spend in buying him luxuries. I was not allowed to 
carry wine to him, but sometimes smuggled it in a small flask, 
concealed in my stockings. I went to sec him one day, and 
whilst there the drum-major came in with a letter sealed with 
black; it was written by his sister, and contained the unwel- 
come news of the death of his mother. She had written to 
him many times, urging him to get his discharge from the army, 
which he could have done by paying twenty-one pounds, and 
she offered him the money to pay it ; but I would talk him out 
of the notion, and tell him that we should soon go to a station 
nearer home. But the most prevailing argument I had, was 
that we had been companions so long that I could not get 
along without him, as they were all strangers to me here, and 
by this I persuaded him to remain. Ackroid read the letter 
and passed it to me, but I could not read, but knew that some 
thing was written there that cause! my companion to weep, 
and he told me that his mother was dead. While the tears 
coursed down his checks, he said these words to me : ' Isaac, 
there is something in sickness that breaks down the pride of 
manhood, and softens the heart, and brings it back to its infan- 
cy !' Who that has languished upon a sick-bed, in neglect and 
loneliness in a foreign land, that has not thought of the mother 
who in his childhood smoothed his pillow, and administered to 
his helplessness? There is something in a mother's love for a 
son, which transcends all other affections of the heart. It is 



88 FROM CORFU TO MALTA. 

neither to be stifled by ingratitude, nor daunted in danger ; for 
she will surrender everything for his enjoyment, and sacrifice 
everything for his pleasure. If prosperity should overtake him, 
she will exult in his success ; and if adversity, she will lament 
over his misfortune, — though all the world cast him off, she will 
be all the world to him ! I never expected Ackroid to get out 
again, but he soon after began to mend, and left the hospital. 

I remained in Corfu some three years, and then an order 
came from the Horse Guards, for the 97th Regiment to go to 
Malta. We sailed in the man-of-war Vengeance, and every 
heart was glad to leave, expecting to go to a better place, but 
we were taken to a worse one. While we were sailing up to 
Malta, they practiced shooting with a seventy-four gun. The 
first lieutenant had one eye, and if there was a tyrant in the 
British service, it was that man. I have seen him, when the 
gunner was elevating his piece, strike him with a rope's end, if 
the position of the gun did not suit him, and lay him prostrate 
on the deck. 

We landed at Malta, and were marched to our barracks. 
The regimental guard was the first place where I was upon 
duty. The Maltese gave the soldiers wine, and got them intox- 
icated, and there were so many of them confined for drunken- 
ness, that the guard-room was nearly full. When we went into 
the streets we were often attacked, and many were the escapes 
we made from the Maltese while we stopped in that place. One 
evening, one of my companions, a drinking fellow, went out 
upon the street, and got into a fight; several Maltese were 
against him, but he fought his way through, and arrived at the 
barracks, covered with blood, and wounded badly. The mos- 
quitoes and sand-flies troubled us exceedingly, so that it was 
difficult for us to sleep in the guard-room, and we used to tie 
our pants around the bottom, to keep them from biting our 
legs ; and although we used every means to keep them off, we 
could not get rid of them. By these troubles, wc could not 
sleep much in the guard-room, and when we went upon sentry 



BOWS WITH THE MALTESE. 89 

we were very sleepy, and at one time, I remember it distinctly, 
I sat down when upon my post, and fell asleep. The sergeant, 
making his regular visit to the sentries,, and finding me asleep, 
eeized my firelock to take it from me, but I was awake in a mo- 
ment, and my bayonet at his breast. He told me that I should 
have to be confined ; but I informed him that the mosquitoes 
and sand-flies troubled us so in the gnard-room that we could 
not sleep, and that I fell asleep at ray post before I was aware 
of it. This sergeant had always been friendly to me, and he 
did not report me to the commanding officer, or I should have 
stood a chance of getting fifty lashes. 

The soldiers having had a falling out with the Maltese, could 
not o-o into the streets without running the risk of their lives. 
Our regiment, about the time of this trouble, had to furnish the 
main guard; there were twenty-seven others besides myself 
upon that guard. One evening, the band was playing in front 
of the guard-room, in a large public square (the band was 
formed in a circle), and there were three soldiers and a corporal 
that walked around the circle, to keep the crowd back ; but one 
man that had been drinking, broke in, and the corporal arrested 
and carried him to the guard-room, and confined him. As soon 
as the man was arrested, the crowd rushed toward the band, 
breaking their circle, and overturning some of them by the 
rapidity of their movements. The guard was called out under 
arms, and I was standing beside a soldier named Yass, when a 
large rock was thrown, grazing his face. This and similar dem- 
onstrations aroused the soldiers, and in the confusion the pris- 
oner escaped from the guard-room, and ran down the street, 
with the corporal after him. We presented bayonets, and kept 
the crowd back. My bayonet was at the breast of a priest, and 
the Maltese men looked exceedingly fierce at me, while the 
priest was continually crossing himself. The corporal caught 
up with the prisoner, and seized him by the collar, but quite a 
number of the Maltese gathered around to rescue him, when 
the corporal saw Tim (the Irishman before referred to), walking 



90 YOU ABE A DEAD MAN. 

along near by; he cried out for Mm to assist, and Tim, seizing 
a large cane from a bystander, came to the corporal, and as the 
crowd were just endeavoring to rescue the prisoner, he laid a 
number of them prostrate, and took the prisoner, and inarched 
him to the guard-room. The Maltese, seeing a number of their 
men struck down by Tim, would not be satisfied or suspend 
hostilities, until he w T as arrested and confined, which was ac- 
cordingly done. He was kept in prison forty days, and was 
then honorably acquitted ; and when he walked the streets of 
Malta, the citizens treated him with more respect than any- 
other soldier, on account of his bravery. 



SICK AT MALTA. 91 



CHAPTER XIII. 



I was on the new Senate Guard while in Malta, and there 
were many Turks there, and I was attracted every morning by 
seeing them bow clown and worship the sun. While upon this 
guard I was taken sick, but I thought I would much rather die 
in the barracks than in the hospital. But growing weaker 
every day, at last I could just get around ; and as the corporal 
came around to the barracks and inquired if any were sick, I 
gave in my name, and was carried to the hospital. The doctor 
came to see me, and asked, ' How long have you been sick ? ' I 
told him that it had been nearly a week. 

4 You are a dead man, then. Why did you not report your- 
self before?' he said, with an oath. 

One day the general doctor came to visit me ; I had been 
then three months in the hospital, and was almost a skeleton, 
and he said that I could live but a short time. I felt frightened 
by his words, knowing that I was not prepared to die, and I 
pledged myself, that if God would raise me up, that I would 
serve him the remainder of my days. That night my feet grew 
cold, and I was told my time had come. These words nearly 
frightened me to death ; when one of the soldiers that was in- 
toxicated, seized a pan, and filling it full of hot water, put my 
feet into it, scalding me severely. I closed my eyes in death, 
as I thought then, and lay speechless, when the person who had 
charge of me took from my pocket a Spanish dollar, and ex- 
changed his old boots for a pair of new ones that I had. I 
opened my eyes, and the man finding I was not dead yet, re- 
turned the dollar and replaced the boots. That night I was 



92 ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. 

able to speak, and continued to recover slowly. I was soon 
enabled to walk, and obtained liberty to go out of hospital, 
down upon the sea-shore, and at first, I had the Maltese assist 
me back to the hospital a number of times, being too weak to 
return. After I had recovered so as to go upon duty again, the 
Light Infantry received orders to go upon the opposite side of 
Malta, to take charge of a fort. While at the fort, a soldier 
belonging to Number Two Company had been drinking hard, 
and he took his firelock and loaded it, and going into a bowling 
alley that was near, tied a string to the trigger of the gun, and, 
placing the muzzle under his chin, was about to pull the string, 
when the sergeant went in, and knocking the man down, caught 
the gun as it dropped ; it went off and drove the ball into the 
ceiling. The soldier was taken up and carried to the hospital. 

We stopped in Malta about sixteen months, when an order 
was received for the 97th Regiment to go forthwith to Halifax, 
in the ship Java. We left in the fall of eighteen hundred and 
forty-eight, and arrived at Halifax in some fifty days ; and as 
we had thin clothing on, we suffered extremely from the cold. 
We went ashore and pitched our tents on the common, where 
we stopped three days and nights, part of the time it rained 
and hailed, and we had to dig small drains in our tents to carry 
off the water. The bottom of our tents was covered with 
straw, upon which we slept, until the regiment whom we were 
sent to relieve, went away, — then we went into the barracks. 

Some of the soldiers and officers were so vexed by the treat- 
ment which they received that they ran away from the army. 
We had at that time the finest grenadier company that there 
was in the British army ; but many of these deserted. There 
were three full-sergeants and two color-sergeants that deserted. 
The three sergeants went away at one time, and a police-ser- 
geant that belonged to the 38th Regiment, volunteered to go 
after them. The sergeants, as we learned, were in a Scotch 
settlement, some distance from the army ; and the police-ser- 
geant, taking some other soldiers with him, went to this settle- 



PROMOTION AND ITS DANGERS. 93 

mcnt, and found the house where they stopped. Leaving his 
men upon the outside, he went into the house, and whilst in 
the lower part, one of the sergeants came; down stairs. As soon 
as the police-sergeant saw him, he drew his pistol, and told him 
to stand, and that he was his prisoner in the Queen's name. 
But the other two sergeants came down, and one of them 
knocked the police-sergeant over, and took the brace of pistols 
away from him, and then they fought their way through the 
soldiers at the door, and escaped to the States. The sergeant 
got such a severe whipping that he was laid by for some time. 

Soon after our regiment arrived at Halifax, I was appointed 
corporal in the Light Infantry; this was a great misfortune to 
me, for it gave me greater liberty inside of the barracks, and 
jilenty of drink outside; and I forgot the promise I had made 
God when I was sick, and plunged deeper into dissipation. I 
was ordered to mount the { ordnance guard,' with some old sol- 
diers, and having been recently appointed, I was expected to 
6tand treat for all hands. I told them I should not, for I had 
seen enough of the results of drinking when upon duty ; but 
one of the soldiers said that all corporals treated when appoint- 
ed. I would not consent, but one of them brought a bottle of 
brandy, and soon another was brought, until some half a dozen 
bottles had been drank by the soldiers, and they got partially 
intoxicated. What to do, I could not tell! If the command- 
ing oflicer should see them in such a condition, they would be 
confined, and myself with them. I therefore went and brought 
a couple of pails of water, and threw this on them, but it did 
not sober them, and I then turned to, and gave them a pretty 
good thrashing, which sobered them in a great measure. When 
we went off from duty, the commanding officer inspected tho 
guard, and they passed all right: 

I had charge of fifteen men, and one of these got a pass from 
the commanding officer to go out of the barracks and stop all 
night. His name waa Thomas Wilkinson, and he and myself 
■were boon companions, and used to have our times, generally, 



94 AEREST AND A FIGHT. 

together. He was a hard drinker, and something of a fighting 
character. Wilkinson asked me to come out after tattoo, and 
I told him I would, if possible. After the roll was called, and 
when all the men were asleep in the barrack-room, I arose and 
dressed myself, and went down near the ' Canteen,' and climbed 
over the fence, and went up where "Wilkinson was, and there 
got something to drink. I stopped here a short time, and then 
went to a saloon, and while I was there drinking, a police-ser- 
geant (the same fellow that did not take the sergeants that 
deserted) came into the shop and asked me if I had a pass. I 
told him that it was none of his business, as he had nothing to 
do with the regiment that I belonged to. 

' If you do not tell me, I will call in my men at the door,' 
said the sergeant. 

4 Well, call them in,' I said, and being in drink, I was not 
afraid to face them. 

The sergeant called in two men at the door, and they dragged 
me out of the shop into the street. As they arrived opposite 
where I left Wilkinson, I called out for him to come out, but 
he was too far gone to pay any attention to me. I had made 
up my mind not to be carried to barracks, and intended to get 
Wilkinson, and both of us I knew could have flogged the ser- 
geant and two men that he had with him, easily; but as he was 
not with me, I determined to do it alone. 

The sergeant was in the rear, and a man on each side of me, 
and I took an opportunity, when their attention was attracted 
in another direction, and gave the sergeant a blow under the 
chin that laid him flat upon his back. Then turning quickly, I 
knocked down one of the men at my side, and ran as fast as I 
could with the third one after me with a cane; and, overtaking 
me, he knocked me down. I was up in a trice and off again, and 
escaped the fellow, and passed the sentry and got safe into bar- 
racks. I went to my room, and there I undressed and feigned 
sleep, for I supposed that I should have callers soon. The po- 
lice-sergeant went to the barracks and reported to the major- 



WAKING UP AND THE TEIAL. 95 

ecrgcant that I was out of barracks, and they both went to the 
color-sergeant of the regiment that I belonged to, and, in com- 
pany with him, came to my room. The major-sergeant, coming 
to my cot, shook me and managed to awake me. I got up, and 
wiping my eyes, asked what the trouble was. 

1 Oh, the rascal,' said the police-sergeant, and he swore that I 
had been out of barracks, and that he could bring proof of it. 
I awakened ray men, and they all said that I went to bed when 
they did, but the police-sergeant being so positive, and still 
maintaining it, the sergeant-major said, 'Corporal Ambler, you 
may consider yourself under arrest,' and then the three left my 
room. If they had examined my clothes they would have 
found evidence enough against me, for they were covered with 
mud ; but in the excitement they forgot it. 

The next forenoon I was brought before the commanding 
officer, and the charge read against me of breaking out of bar- 
racks and assaulting an officer. I had borrowed a pair of pants 
and a coat, so that I appeared before the officer in pretty good 
shape. 

The sergeant-major had been up, before I was brought before 
the officer, to the place where I had been the night before, and 
there learned that I had been out of barracks. I was aware 
that he had been out, and I made up my mind to tell the whole 
story. I therefore told the commanding officer that I had been 
out and up to town, and perhaps took a drop, and while I was 
in a shop, the police -sergeant came in and asked me to show 
my pass. I told him that it was none of his business, which 
made him angry, and he told me that unless I showed my pass 
he would call in two men that he had at the door, and take me 
to the barracks. I consented to the arrangement, and he 
brought his two men in and they took me a prisoner, but that 
they did not carry me a prisoner to the barracks ; I went there 
alone, and went to bed and got asleep, and so sound that the 
sergeant-major could hardly wake me. At this point the ser- 
geant-major and color-sergeant were laughing, and the police- 



93 JOKE ON THE POLICE-SERGEANT. 

sergeant, seeing that he was not likely to make much out of it, 
was going out," when the commanding officer said: 

* When you attempt to bring prisoners to the barracks, re- 
member after this to bring them all the way.' 

This was a severe cut on the police-sergeant, as the incidents 
connected with the three sergeants that deserted, and that he 
did> not bring back, were fresh in the memory of all present. 
He left the room, while those present smiled at the remark. 
The commander then turned and told me to go about my busi- 
ness, and not to be brought before him on any such charge 
again, for if I was I should certainly be punished. I faced to 
the right-about and went out of the room, finding at the door 
all my company waiting for me, expecting that I should get 
confused. As I came out I said, 'It's all right, boys,' upon 
which they gave a shout, and taking me upon their shoulders, 
carried me to my room. 



COOKING THE GOOSE. 97 



CHAPTER XIV. 



The soldiers used to have some good times when upon duty, 
and I remember that one night when I was placed with three 
men under me, upon the Magazine Guard (this was the furthest 
guard from barracks), one of the men asked me if we should 
have some rum ; but as I had seen the effects of it too often, 
I told him. that I would not allow any to be brought. When 
soldiers set their minds on having rum, they will most always 
manage to get some, and one of the men said that if I would 
allow them to get some, that he would get a goose, and another 
said he would get some potatoes, and upon this I gave my con- 
sent. They went off and soon returned with their provisions, 
and we kindled a fire and baked our goose, and cooked our 
potatoes and drank our liquor, and had, in our opinion, a fine 
time. 

A soldier's life, although it is hard and dark, yet has some 
bright spots, which are like the oases in a desert. They serve 
to lighten the cares of a soldier's life, and cheer him in his la- 
borious and irksome duties. We would look back upon the 
little sprees and good times that we had with pleasure, as we 
sat in the barrack-room, and laid out our plans for the future. 

As I succeeded well as corporal, and kept my men in good 
condition without being confined, the color-sergeant of the 
company asked me how I managed to get along so. well ; and, 
in the course of our conversation, he said, 'There is one room 
with ten men in it, and some of them are confined about every 
night, and I want you to take charge of the room, and to, com- 
mence to-day.' 

I went to my new quarters and told them that I was appoint- 
7 



98 REASON MORE POTENT THAN BLOWS. 

ed to take charge of the room, and that upon the commence- 
ment intended to have order. The first nis:ht I stood at the 
door of the barrack, and the first man that came in drunk I 
knocked down ; the second was served the same ; I thought 
that it could be stopped in this way, but I found that I was 
mistaken. The next night, in carrying my plans out, I got into 
a regular fight, and one of the men threw a piece of iron at me 
which just grazed my cheek and struck the wall, leaving its 
mark. After we got quieted down, I tried to reason with them, 
and met with good success. I told them that I was the young- 
est of any of them, and that I had had before good success in 
taking care and keeping order in my room, and that now I was 
placed over them, as I had been so successful. I still fur- 
ther told them that my reputation and my honor were com- 
promised (for I had told the color-sergeant that I could keep 
order), and that I now appealed to them, as men of honor, to 
assist me. One old soldier, that had been in the army many 
years, said, '.I will give my word and honor that I will not get 
drunk again while you have charge of the room, and I will not 
speak to the soldier that does.' This encouraged me, and I 
thanked him, and from that day it was the best and most or- 
derly room in the barracks. 

I have ever since that time thought much of moral suasion 
and have found that man has a heart, and that it is never so 
hardened but that it is capable of receiving good impressions, 
and being touched by words of kindness. God has given ra- 
tional beings the power of reasoning, which is the greatest and 
most potent instrument that can be applied to man to bring 
him from vice and evil. 

A short time after this, I was chosen to go after a deserter to 
Pictou, some 120 miles distant, and two men were selected to 
go with me as an escort. Before we left, my orders were given 
me, and quarters were provided on the way. We started off 
with our knapsacks on our backs, and our arms with us. But 
.passing a detachment of the 97th Regiment, we left our knap- 



SAFETY WHERE THERE IS PRAYER. 99 

Backs, as they were so heavy and impeded our progress consid- 
erably, and then continued our way. The first day we marched 
about twenty miles and arrived at our billeting quarters, where 
we got something to eat and stopped that night. We only had 
two meals a day, one in the morning before we commenced our 
march for the day, and the other at night where we stopped. 
The next morning we continued our march, and went about the 
same distance that we did the day before, and arrived at our 
quarters. The third day it rained hard, but we had to travel 
twenty miles to our stopping-place; here we all stood before a 
largo firo^ and dried ourselves the best we could. In conversa- 
tion with the landlord, I told him our next stopping-place. 

'You must be careful there,' he said, 'the landlord of that 
place is a villain ; but a short time ago a pedlar was murdered 
there, and if you carry any money with you, you had better 
keep an eye on it.' 

I told him that I thought that we should not meet with any 
difficulty, but thanked him for his words of caution, and then 
we retired for the night. The next day we arrived at the tav- 
ern that the last keeper had cautioned me about, and met the 
landlord at the door. . I was immediately struck with his pleas- 
ant appearance. As we went into the house, we saw his two 
daughters, and I thought to myself, surely this man can be no 
murderer. When night came I was shown to a room below 
stairs, while my two men were carried up-stairs ; this I thought 
looked suspicious, but I kept all the firelocks in my room, and 
told the men that if they heard an alarm to hurry down as soon 
as possible to my assistance. When I laid down for the night 
I put a firelock at my side ; but I could not sleep, my thoughts 
were running upon what the tavern-keeper had told me in re- 
gard to the man whose roof I was under. As I lay there, I 
heard some one approaching my room who seemed to stop at 
my door. I seized my firelock, and as I was accustomed to 
challenge when upon sentry, I cried out, 'who comes there?' I 
received no answer, and as I heard no more noise I laid down 



100 THE ATTACK ON THE ROAD. 

again upon my bed, but as I was still listening, I heard voices. 
I arose and went to the door and listened ; it was the voice of 
the landlord in prayer; and as he concluded, the daughters fol- 
lowed, and they concluded by singing a hymn. I felt more se- 
cure after hearing those prayers than I did with my guns by my 
side, and I threw aside my firelocks, and laid down and slept 
sweetly. The next morning we tried to get some rum of the 
landlord, but we were not successful (we had got it every 
morning before), and we had to leave without it. 

We had traveled some five or six miles when I began to feel 
faint and hungry, and I told my men to keep on whilst I went 
into a cabin by the side of the road, and got something to eat. 
I had been so used to my rum that I could not get along with- 
out it. I went into the cabin where there was an elderly lady 
and her sick daughter that was near death, and I asked her if 
she would get me something to eat. She brought me a cup of 
coffee and a buckwheat cake, which tasted good to me ; after 
eating I offered the woman some money, but she would not take 
it, and thanking her, I left the cabin to overtake my men, but 
they were some distance before me. As I was hurrying through 
a piece of woods to overtake them, a man jumped out from the 
bushes before me with a bayonet in his hand, and approached 
me in a threatening manner. I presented my bayonet and made 
a rush toward him, upon which he turned and took to his heels, 
and jumping over a ditch by the side of the road, he dropped 
the bayonet out of his hand. I crossed the ditch and picked it 
up, and continued on my way, and soon came up with my men, 
and showed them my bayonet that I had captured in my attack 
upon the man who had assaulted me. 

We continued on our way, and arrived at our place for re^ 
freshment and there I showed the bayonet, and the keeper said 
that he had had two horses stolen from him, and that a number 
of the families around had lost some articles. We immediate- 
ly gathered some of the neighbors, and started off in pursuit of 
the robber. The next day we came to a village about twenty 



THE SMASH UP. 101 

miles from my place of destination, and found my quarters and 
had something to eat, and then I went with my men into the 
bar-room. Whilst there a number of young men came in, and 
we had a pretty merry time. One young man, of about my size, 
wished me to exchange my military clothes for his, and then 
for me to go with him to his father's house, which was about 
three miles from the tavern. 

I was ready for any kind of sport, and therefore willingly 
complied with the request, and we went into an adjoining room 
and exchanged clothes, and, going out, we got into a carriage 
which the young man had there, and started for his house. We 
had both taken too much liquor to navigate a horse well, and 
at the first start had some narrow escapes. We had gone about 
a mile, when we came into a clearing, where the road was not 
easily discernible. We were going about twelve knots an hour 
when the chaise all at once sunk into a ditch, and stopping sud- 
denly, I was thrown forward on to the horse's back. The horse 
breaking away, and jumping at the same time, somewhat dis- 
turbed my equilibrium, and I fell into the mud, while he went 
off at full speed. In a short time I came to myself, when hear- 
ing a noise near me, I thought I was on sentry, and cried out, 
* Who comes there ? ' 

1 Why, don't yon know me ? ' said my companion. 

* I don't think that you would know me,' I said, ' for I am in 
the mud, and my, or I would say your clothes are pretty well 
daubed. But where are you ? ' 

* Well, I am in the mud too, and I believe that I have broken 
my wrist.' 

* Well, I profess to be something of a doctor, if you will just 
come and pull me out, I will see to your wrist.' 1 was begin- 
ning to get pretty sober, as the cold mud and water had a won- 
derful influence on me. 

4 1 am out,' said my companion, and coming to where I lay, 
he took hold of my hand and pulled me out. 

One glance at my military clothes showed me that they were 



102 ON A LARK. 

none the better for this night's excursion, and I saw a number 
of places torn, but I consoled myself with the thought that 
there were none here to inspect them. After brushing off the 
mud, we started for our horse, but not finding him, we contin- 
ued on our way. We soon arrived at the young man's house, 
and found that the horse had arrived all right. My companion 
went up to the door and knocked. The door was opened by 
his father, when he said, 'Can you accommodate two poor sol- 
diers here to-night?' The old gentleman said that he did not 
think that he could, and was just pushing the door to, when 
the young man said, ' I have no place to sleep to-night, and it 
is rainy, and I should like to sleep on the floor,' upon which the 
old man opened the door wide, and we went into a room where 
the young man's mother was, who eyed us rather narrowly, 
and then turned to her son who had on my clothes, and ex- 
claimed, 'My son,' and fainted. She soon came to, and I was 
treated finely by the old people, and then started to go back, 
the young man showing me the way. 

The next morning we resumed our march and soon arrived 
at Picton, and went to the jail and found the prisoner there. 
As it was night, and I had an order on a tavern for refresh- 
ments and lodgings, I left the jail with my men, and put up. 



FASTENED TO THE PRISONER. 103 



CHAPTER XV. 



TnE next morning we went to the jail and saw the sergeant, 
who gave the prisoner into my hands, saying, 'Here is a desert- 
er from the army; by orders that I have received, I give him 
over into your hands.' I took the prisoner and put on the 
handcuffs, and started for Halifax. After going about a mile, 
I told the prisoner that if he would give me his word not to 
attempt to escape, I would take the handcuffs off. He replied 
that he would not give me any trouble, and I took them off. 

That day we stopped at the place that we had been billeted 
to, and I was troubled how to take care of my prisoner. I felt 
that 1 had something at stake, and thought that it was of as 
much importance as if I had a thousand to look after. After 
much reflection upon the subject, I thought of a plan; I there- 
fore slept with the prisoner, and had my left hand handcuffed 
to his right one, feeling pretty confident that my prisoner could 
not get away without my knowing something about it. 

I think that this way of securing a prisoner was original, but 
I would not recommend it, especially if a person wishes to sleep 
much. Every time the prisoner turned, it would cut my wrist, 
and every time I turned, it would cause the prisoner to cry 
out, and vice versa. To say that I felt as tired in the morning 
as I did the night before, would convey no idea of my condi- 
tion. If I had been three days and nights upon a forced march, 
without closing my eyes to sleep, I could not have felt worse, 
and I thought that the next time I took a prisoner, I. would let 
him go before I would torture myself as I did that night. 

The next morning we resumed our march and arrived with- 
out any adventures to our quarters, where we stopped for the 
night. The next day was the Sabbath, and I made up my 



104 THE ATTEMPTED ESCAPE. 

mind to stop at this place during the day. I therefore had my 
prisoner lodged in jail, telling the keeper at the same time that 
I should look to him for his safe keeping, and then went to 
church. After meeting I went to the jail, as I felt somewhat 
anxious, as some prisoners had made their escape from the jail 
where I had put my man. I found all right, but the man wished 
to come out and walk around some, he said, so I told the jailer 
to let him out, and I presented bayonet, and the prisoner 
marched before. We had gone some fifty yards, and had got 
out of the main streets, when the prisoner turned around rather 
fierce at me, and started to run. I cocked my firelock, and 
sung out for him to stop, or he was a dead man, which he quick- 
ly did, and coming up with him, I told him to ' right about 
face,' and marched for the jail. After giving him into the hands 
of the jailer, I went to the tavern, and found that my two men 
were drinking in the bar-room with two deserters that were 
there, and they agreed among themselves to rob and kill me, 
and then to leave with the money, as I had some little with me. 
One of my men that was with me was an old soldier that had 
been in the army fourteen years, and he thought to himself, 
that in seven years more he would receive a pension for life, 
and he therefore determined to have nothing to do in the affair, 
and came and told me the whole story. One of these deserters 
was the same man that took care of me when I was sick in the 
hospital, and took my Spanish dollar and exchanged boots with 
me, and I can assure you that I had no very friendly feelings 
toward him at that time. I told my escort, or the one that in- 
formed me of the plot, that he had better appear the same as 
if nothing had been said about it, and when they came to my 
room I would be ready for them. This conversation was in the 
bar-room, and seeing one of the deserters coming in, my escort 
stepped out of the way. As he came in, a thought struck me, 
and I spoke to him and said, 'Did you not see two escorts who 
are in the village in search of you and your companion? now, 
take my advice, and leave as quick as possible, or you will be 




\ *' 



* A COMICAL POSITION ON GUARD. 105 

taken.' He turned pale as I was telling him about the escort, 
and left immediately, and I have never seen either of them 
since. 

The next morning I commenced my march, and reached Hal- 
ifax after being absent sixteen days, fourteen of which, if I am 
not mistaken, it rained. I lodged my prisoner in jail, and he 
was kept there six months, and was then sent to England, 
where he was confined in prison about three months, and was 
then liberated, and went to America. 

The next guard that I mounted was over the prisoners. The 
sergeant-major picked me out for this guard, as he said, because 
it was an easy one, I having just returned from a hard march. 
I had to go on guard at four o'clock in the afternoon, and stop 
till eight o'clock, and all this time I was not allowed to speak 
aloud or laugh. I had to sit on a seat erected on one side of 
the room, and on this seat I could look over all the prisoners. 
On the opposite side was the provost-sergeant, who had charge 
of the prisoners. "When I went into the room where the pris- 
oners were, all in rows, I noticed many that I knew, and had 
been with many times on a spree; and as the prisoners were 
not allowed to speak, those that knew me began to make signs. 
I went up and took my seat, but it seemed a strange place for 
me. All the prisoners were facing me, and one, a drummer, a 
comic and mimicking fellow, looked very sober at me all the 
while. Those around him began to smile, and I began now to 
comprehend his meaning. The fellow was pretending that I 
was a preacher. I burst out into a loud laugh, in which all the 
prisoners joined, which astonished the provost-sergeant, and 
he said that he would report me to the commanding officer. 
One of the prisoners now spoke and said that the provost-ser- 
geant had no right to speak, and general confusion ensued. 
This guard was the hardest one I ever had. 

The next guard I went upon was the citadel guard. Previ- 
ous to my mounting this, an officer belonging to the Scotch 
Highlanders brought in thirty-six deserters, who were trans- 
port^ and put in the dry-room, a place where criminals were 



106 GETTING FAST IN THE GRATES. • 

kept. The building was of granite, and the windows were se- 
cured by strong iron bars, to prevent the prisoners escaping. A 
sergeant went every two hours through the room where the 
prisoners were, and with a piece of iron would let it strike 
against the bars as he passed, to see if any of them had been 
sawed into. One of the prisoners, during the intervals of the 
sergeant's visits, sawed a bar of iron off, and made a passage 
large enough to admit a person, and through this quite a num- 
ber escaped. One large man in endeavoring to get through, got 
wedged in, so that he could not get back, and the other prison- 
ers finding they could not get him out, informed the sentry, who 
" gave the alarm, and soon the whole guard turned out, and open- 
ing the door of the dry-room, saw the man fast in the window. 
We pulled him back, but I certainly thought it would kill him, 
and then started in pursuit of those that had escaped. We were 
not successful, and although detachments were sent throughout 
the surrounding country, we never heard from them. How they 
escaped out of the fortress we never knew, for after getting out 
of the window, they had to drop some ten feet to the ground, 
and then they were inside of a granite wall some ten feet high; 
this they managed to scale, and thus effected their escape. 

There was a place called 'Waterloo Tavern,' kept by a man 
named Murphy ; it was a low, miserable place, and one night a 
man belonging to the sappers and miners went to this place, and 
having considerable money about him, was murdered and thrown 
into a well. A short time after, his body was found there, and 
so enraged were the sappers and miners that they determined 
to have their revenge. They commenced to lay a train of pow- 
der a number of yards distant, and extended it to the tavern' 
They were some time in accomplishing the undertaking, and 
one dark night they ignited the powder, and instantly an ex- 
plosion took place, and the building was at once enveloped in 
flames. The bugler gave the alarm of fire, and the engines 
were hurried out, and great exertions were pretended to be 
made to subdue the flames, but it was burnt down, together 
with some persons in the building. 



A DESERTER'S STRATEGY. 107 



CHAPTER XVI. 

In our company there was a sergeant named Pullinger. He 
was a smart, shrewd man, and had a good education. He was 
the color sergeant, and was intrusted with a considerable 
amount of money, being considered a very honest man. He 
and a man named Smith were determined to leave the army. 
Before leaving, the sergeant bought himself a splendid suit of 
clothes, and a footman's suit for Smith ; and watching an op- 
portunity, made their escape, the sergeant taking considerable 
money that was intrusted to him. They passed off on the road 
as gentleman and servant, and a number of detachments of sol- 
diers who were in pursuit of them, passed them on the road, 
but as the sergeant was dressed finely, they did not dare to say 
anything to him, although they saw that he was about the same 
height as one of the deserters. 

They came one day to a guard, and Smith, the footman, was 
ahead ; the guard stopped him and began to inspect him, when 
he told them that his master was a few steps behind, and that 
he would settle with them f jr stopping his servant ; and upon 
this they let him go. The sergeant soon came along and they 
stopped' him, but he told them that he would report their pro- 
ceedings to the commander for stopping a gentleman 0:1 the 
road, anl wished to know if they intended to insult him so 
much as to stop him upon the pretense that he was a deserter. 
He would have them to know that he was a gentleman, and 
that he would make them smart for their behavior. And feel- 
ing somewhat ashamed, the soldiers let him off, and with his 
footman he escaped to the States; and now lives in the State 
of New York. 



103 BRAVERY HONORED BY THE QUEEN. 

There was a sergeant in the 7th Regiment, a very strong and 

courageous, man, named E . I well remember receiving 

some pretty severe threshings from his hands, although not so 
large a man as I was. He was a great drinker, and sometimes 
would come up into our mess and get so drunk, that we would 
have to carry him to his quarters. In the Russian war, the ser- 
geant was on the field of battle, and fell, pierced with nine 
balls, and left on the field for dead. He came to, and getting 
up, took a firelock that was near, and, loading it, walked up to 
the enemy's position where there was a sentry on guard over 
three prisoners; he fired and shot the sentry, and the prisoners 
escaped. They went toward their quarters, and while going, 
a field-piece was fired at them ; the ball grazad the sergeant's 
foot, taking the sole of his boot completely off. When he ar- 
rived at his quarters the balls were extracted, and he was soon 
after sent to England with a pension. 

The Queen and her maids of honor received him, her Majes- 
ty making some remarks, and, speaking of his brave conduct, 
offered him a home in England, or he might go to Halifax 
where his wife was, and make his home there. The sergeant, 
thinking that there was no place like 'sweet home,' went to 
Halifax, and as he left, one of the maids of honor walked arm 
in arm with him to the place of embarkation, where the Queen 
presented him with a white silk handkerchief, snying, 'that it 
was hemmed with her own hands,' and was given to him as a 
mark of her esteem for his bravery. 

We remained in Halifax about twelve months, and then were 
ordered to St. John, New Brunswick. We immediately Avent 
and took our respective quarters. Soon after we came to St. 
John I was appointed sergeant ; this was another bad thing 
for me, it gave me still greater liberties. I went in company 
with the sergeants, who were all drinking fellows, and I had the 
privilege of drinking to the greatest excess. I had been here 
but a short time, when one evening as I was walking down one 
of the streets, I saw in a window on the opposite side, three 



FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MY WIFE. 109 

young ladies, who, upon seeing me, looked up, and one of them 
said, 'Look at that nigger soldier.' 

On hearing this remark, I felt vexed. It did not surprise me, 
however, for I had burnt my face so badly whilst in the warm 
climate, that. I was almost black. I thought to myself that I 
would marry the one that made the remark about me. 

The young woman who had spoken thus, was the daughter 
of a lady that lived in great style and moved in the first circles, 
and how to get acquainted with her was now the question. I 
knew a soldier in the guard-room that could write, and I told 
him that I wanted him to write me a letter, which he accord- 
ingly did, and I sent it. I received an answer the next day that 
checked my ardor a little. It read thus, ' How dare you, sir, 
have the presumption to address me a note ? ' Short and sweet, 
yet I determined to persevere in my suit, and get acquainted 
with her. 

Passing her house one day, I saw her in the garden, and went 
around to the back side of the house, and walked softly up be- 
hind her as she was picking off a rose. She heard my step, and, 
turning around, was upon the point of hurrying off to the house, 
when I said, * Madam, you will excuse my presumption, (I never 
heard the word before I heard it read in the letter that the 
young lady sent me, but I thought that I must bring out every 
thing that I could, in my opening speech; I had got it all by 
heart to deliver some time before I met her in the garden,) in 
entering your garden so unceremoniously, but the beauty of 
your flowers attracted my attention, and I hope you will excuse 
my boldness.' She pardoned me, and showed me around the 
garden, and soon after I left, feeling well pleased with my suc- 
cess. 

While at St. John, I was appointed cateter of the sergeant's 
mess, and to sell rum to the soldiers. This berth gave me a 
pretty good opportunity to drink as much as I pleased. I drank 
up all my pay, and all my profits on the liquor, and was very 
dissipated whilst I held that berth. "We used to play cards 



HO BOW WITH THE SERVANT. 

when not on duty, and one night one of the officer's servants 
came in to play, and we all drank very hard. The servant made 
a mis-play, and I told him of it, which made him angry, and ho 
reached across the table and struck me in the face. I had drank 
so much liquor that I was under its influence considerably, and 
this enraged me. I jumped up and put the light out, and 
cleared the room of all excepting, the servant; and now I was 
determined to give him a threshing. He grabbed me by the 
hair with one hand, and with the other he. had me by the 
throat. In endeavoring to free myself from his grasp, I left a 
large portion of my hair in his hand. Then I was at liberty, 
and springing toward him, I seized him, and hurrying to the 
door which was open, I was just upon the point of pitching him 
headlong over the verandah, down some twelve fcet to the 
pavement below, when I was arrested by one of the company. 
When I got sobered down a little, I felt extremely glad that I 
was stopped from doing an act whereby I have no doubt I 
should have taken human life, or been the means of it. 

The next morning I was awakened in my cot by a tap on the 
shoulder. I knew what it meant well ; when a soldier has been 
insulted, and wishes satisfaction, he goes early in the morning 
and taps the person on the shoulder who has insulted him as a 
signal to get up and go fight it out. The instant I felt the 
touch, I was awake and knew what %as wanted ; he was the 
one that I shoved out of the room the night before. I tapped 
my chum, Tim Wilkinson, upon the shoulder, and asked him to 
go with me, and he arose, and we went out. * How much is 
this for?' said I. 'For a quart,' implied the sergeant. (The 
first one that received a clip in the face, would have to pay for 
a quart of rum.) I gave him the first clip, and thus wounded 
honor was appeased, and the satisfaction deemed complete, and 
he paid the liquor and all was settled ; and to tell the truth I 
felt well pleased to get off so well, for he was a powerful man, 
and a superior boxer, and would have been likely to have laid 
me on the ground, if he had struck me. 



THE ORANGEMEN. HI 

Such scenes as these were very common with us whilst I was 
caterer for the mess ; and many were the skirmishes we had. 

I was once sent with a company to take charge of the maga- 
zine at Fort Howe, Portland, St. Johns. 

We had a room up-stairs where we used to play cards, and 
many of the citizens used to come and play with the soldiers, 
bringing liquor with thein, and they would sometimes get 
drunk, and quarrel with one another. One fellow who came 
there had lost both legs above the knees, and he used to get 
drunk every time he came. One night I went with him to his 
home, as lie was so intoxicated that he could not go alone, and, 
in returning to my quarters, the police stepped up to arrest me 
(thinking that I was a drunken soldier, as they had just ar- 
rested some), but I turned and made fight, knocking down the 
one that had seized me. and escaped to my barracks. 

One of my soldiers, soon after my escape from the police, 
told me that he saw a soldier of Number Two Company in a 
rum-shop in citizen's dress, and that he intended to desert, and 
if I did not arrest and confine him, he would report me to the 
commanding officer. I went down to the shop where the sol- 
dier was, and went in and seized him, and told him that he was 
my prisoner in the Queen's name, and with some considerable 
difficulty dragged him into a back room, and then called upon 
the keeper to watch him whilst I went after some of my men. 
I soon got them, and then carried him to the main guard, where 
he was confined. About this time the Orangemen in the prov- 
ince were making great demonstrations, and there was a good 
deal of ill-feeling between them and the Irish Catholics. The 
Irish citizens had a large banner flying in town, at the foot of 
the hill on which Fort Howe was located. The Orangemen 
formed in line, and the leader — representing King William — 
dashed along on his high-mettled charger, and, drawing his 
sword, cleft down the flag. The Irish Catholics immediately 
commenced fifing upon them, wounding and killing a number. 
The Orangemen retreated to their head-quarters, and, arming 



112 ATTEMPT TO BURN A CATHOLIC CHURCH. 

themselves, returned and fired upon them indiscriminately, 
some of them pitching headlong into the streets from the win- 
dows where they stood watching the advancing column. The 
havoc was fearful on both sides. The infantry and artillery 
were called out, and charged upon both parties and drove them 
off. 

The Orangemen determined to burn the Catholic church; 
and the priest getting wind of it, came to me and told me the 
night they had fixed upon for destroying his church, and begged 
me to prevent it. I told him if the church was fired it would 
blow up my magazine, and I would lose every man before it 
should be done. He seized me by the hand and said he could 
trust me. I immediately placed a sentry at the church, and 
notified my men what would be attempted after I had received 
grand rounds, and the guard had turned in. And here it may 
interest some to explain what is meant by 'grand rounds.' 

A field-officer comes. The sentry challenges. The officer an- 
swers, Grand rounds. Sentry replies, Stand grand rounds, and 
calls guard, turn out. The sergeant falls in the guard, then 
takes two men as escort and marches up in front of grand 
rounds, ports arms, and says, Who comes there ? Officer an- 
swers, Rounds. Sergeant says, What rounds ? Officer answers, 
Gran d rounds. Sergeant says, Stand grand rounds — advance 
one, and give the countersign. The sergeant receives the coun- 
tersign at the point of the bayonet, in a low tone. Sergeant 
answers, All right, and orders the guard to present arms. Offi- 
cer asks, ' Is guard all right ? ' Answer, 'All right, sir.' ' The officer 
then says, Turn guard in. The sergeant then orders, Guard, 
shoulder arms, right face; longe arms — a term used for dis- 
missed. Soon after having received grand rounds, as explained, 
there was seen a crowd of men slowly winding their way along 
a narrow defile at the foot of the hill. My sentry challenged, 
'Who comes there?' No answer. We were on the watch for 
them. Sentry said, 'All's not right.' I took two men, advanced 
and challenged, and no answer. I did so three times. I called 



SECURED A FRIEND. 113 

my men, — Face to the right about, double march to the rear. 
I then ordered them to fall in with the front section, and gave 
the word, Forward men by your right — prepare to charge — 
charge bayonets, and my men, on the double quick, drove the 
poor fellows pell-mell down the hill like frightened sheep. 

This act, which saved the church from being burned, secured 
for me the good-will of the priest, which was turned to a good 
account afterward, as will appear in my escape from the British 
army. I was ordered to stop at this magazine one month, and 
as the time had now expired, I returned to the barracks. 
8 



114 SEPARATING THE BELLIGEBANT& 



CHAPTER XVII. 

There was in the company to which I belonged, a sergeant 
named Smith, who one night broke out of barracks, and on the 
same night, unknown to him, a private broke out. They met 
in a rum-shop, and getting into difficulty, came to hard words. 
The sergeant left the shop, and the private followed, and over- 
taking him, they got to fighting, and as this was near the main 
guard, the sentry gave the alarm, and as I was on guard at the 
time, I ran to the place, and seizing the sergeant, separated 
them. The private, taking a bottle from his pocket, was in the 
act of striking me, when I gave him a blow which knocked him 
down. This sergeant had always favored me when I got into 
any scrapes, and he told me to bear in mind how he had always 
befriended me. I told him that I would get him out all right, 
and delivered the private into his hands, and told him to keep 
him, and I would get some men and take him to the guard-room. 
I soon brought a file of men, and took the private, and carried 
him to the guard-room. The next day he was brought before 
the commanding officer. He said that the. sergeant had also 
broken out of barracks. ' We are not here to try sergeant 
Smith, but to try you,' said the commanding officer; and he 
was ordered to be put into the cells for seven days. 

Soon after this affair, the same sergeant, who was a good 
friend to me, was on guard, and I wished to go out of barracks, 
and he gave me a permit ; but on returning in the morning, as 
I was climbing over the fence, to get into barracks, the sentry 
saw me, and as he was the same soldier that was out with the 
sergeant, and whom I had taken prisoner, he gave the alarm ; 



WHY I RESOLVED TO DESERT. U5 

but before the guard came out, I was in my room. Two ser- 
geants came into my room, and finding me there, said that the 
sentry had reported me out of barracks. The next day I was 
brought before the commanding officer, and as the sentry brought 
no proof against me, he failed to make out his case. I ordered 
him to be confined for telling a falsehood, and he got seven days 
more in the cells. 

I was taken sick about this time, and was confined to the hos- 
pital about three weeks, before I was able to be upon duty 
again. This sickness was owing in a great measure to the dis- 
solute life I led. , 

One night I wanted to go out of barracks, and the sergeant 
agreed not to inform against me, and I went out, but had not 
been gone long, before he reported that I had broken out of 
barracks. An escort was sent after me, and I was taken back 
a prisoner, and the next day brought before the commanding 
officer, who ordered that one of my badges be taken from my 
coat. I felt this more than I should if I had been cowhided, 
and I got a soldier to write to my ' intended,' and inform her of 
the circumstances. She wrote me an encouraging answer, but , 
I could not bear to be thus disgraced, and I determined to take 
advantage of the first opportunity to make my escape. I got 
the young soldier to write to my 'intended,' informing her of 
my intention to escape from the army. The young soldier was 
one that I could trust — we were firm friendfs. I received an 
answer, advising me not to make the venture, as she would soon, 
if I wished it, purchase my discharge; but I would not think of 
such a thing. I had seen enough of the army, and when sober, 
how to escape was always uppermost in my thoughts. 

I was encouraged by an incident that happened about this 
time; three men who deserted and went into the woods were 
surrounded, or rather every place where the deserters wished 
to come out was guarded. After remaining there some six 
days, being nearly exhausted with hunger, they came out and 
gave themselves up to a kidnapper, as the soldiers termed him, 



116 THE KIDNAPPER GETTING WHIPPED. 

(one who caught deserters and returned them to barracks). He 
gave them something to eat, and then secured them that night. 
The next morning he tied their hands together, and taking them 
into a wagon, started for the barracks. One of the prisoners 
got his hands loose as they were riding along, and untied the 
prisoners near him, and then knocked the kidnapper off his seat 
into the road, while another prisoner seized the reins. The kid- 
napper drew his pistols, but before he could use them, he was 
seized by two of the deserters and bound. They tied him to a 
tree, and gave him two dozen lashes with the whip, and then 
getting into the wagon, rode into the States. They then got 
out of the wagon, and started the horse toward his home. 

Some person liberated the kidnapper, and I was upon sentry 
when he came into the barracks and told his story, but he did 
not receive much consolation from the soldiers, who only laughed 
at his misfortunes, and wished that he might get another whip- 
ping. 

Monday, the regiment was ordered to Halifax. At twelve 
o'clock m., I came off guard and went to dinner, and then I 
told Tim Wilkinson, my chum, that I intended to escape, and 
gave him the key to my chest and all my things, and told him 
to keep silent about it. In a short time the orderly came to in- 
spect the dinner, and I knew that now was my best time, as all 
the men were at dinner, so I went out of my room into the yard. 
There was a high fence with iron spikes in the top (the fence 
was eight feet high), and springing up, I got hold with my hands 
and drew myself up and jumped over. Here I had to get over 
a wooden picket fence, which I did somewhat in a hurry, and 
hastened to see my ' intended.' I arrived at the house, and told 
her that I had left the barracks for good. The mother of the 
young lady (her father being dead) seemed much pleased with 
my endeavoring to make my escape, and I have no doubt wished 
that I would get off so far that I would never trouble her daugh- 
ter again, and made me up a bundle of clothes, and gave me a 
eovereign, and wished me good luck. I told her that I was 



SnOWING THEM A TRICK. H7 

afraid to go through the streets with a bundle in my hand, and 
asked her if she would not let her daughter go to Portland, 
about one and a half miles distant, and carry my bundle forme. 
After some time, I prevailed on her to let her daughter carry it, 
and we started off, her daughter going some ten yards before 
me. We had gone but a short distance before she turned 
toward me, and said, 'There's a picket of soldiers coming this 
way, and they are after you.' They had been to Portland, St. 
John, but not finding me there, were returning. I looked up, 
and saw them on the top of a little hill, not more than fifty 
yards distant. ' What will you do?' said my intended, ' you 
will have to give yourself up.' 

'No,' I said, 'I will show them a trick.' 

There were two streets at my left, that ran nearly parallel, 
and led down to the sea-side, which were about one hundred 
feet apart. I started to run down the one that was nearest to 
me, and the picket of soldiers started down the other; seeing 
them go down the other street, I turned back, and came up with 
my 'intended,' and kept on for Portland. As I passed the 
ptrcet, I could not help laughing to see them run down the street 
in pursuit of me. 

I arrived at Portland without any trouble, and went to see a 
man that I knew would help me. I found him, and he told me 
that he would assist me in every way he could. 



118 HOW I GOT MARRIED. 



CHAPTER XVIII, 



Befoee I left Portland, I wanted to get married, and I had 
tried to get a license at the Register's office, but could not 
without the consent of my commanding officer. I went out, 
and fell in with two Irishmen, and asked them to go to tho 
Register's office and get a license in my name. They succeeded 
in getting it, and I hurried back to where I left my 'intended,' 
and with her I went to a Methodist clergyman and was mar- 
ried, and giving my marriage certificate to my newly made 
wife, I bade her adieu, and left for the man with whom I had 
stopped. I exchanged clothes and gave him my military suit, 
and when it was dark, started off. 

In the mean time the regiment had started for Halifax, but 
had left a number of men, who, with the police, were searching 
the country around for me. 

Before going into the woods I went to a Scotchman's house 
and asked for something to eat, but was refused, and I went on 
until I came to a house where an Irishman lived, who gave me 
two potatoes and a piece of fish. I told him that I had just 
come from the house below. ' Well, that fellow will inform 
against you,' he said, knowing that I had escaped from tho 
army; and, taking out a gun, 'Here,' said he, 'take this to de- 
fend yourself, and I will run the risk of your returning it.' I 
took the gun, promising to return it if I lived, and, thanking 
him, left the house and went into the forest. 

It was about 12 o'clock at night when I entered the woods, 
and although darkness covered the earth, it seemed all bright 
to me. I was now my own man, and felt like singing, but I 



HIDING IN THE WOODS. 119 

had to keep silence here, knowing soldiers were stationed all 
around the forest. Having found a place to lie down, I slept 
well, and when I awoke the sun was high in the heavens. In 
my haste to make my escape, I never once thought of taking 
any provisions with me, but it was in the fall of the year, when 
berries were ripe, or else I must have perished or given myself 
up. I found berries enough, and managed the first day to get 
a good living, and made up my mind to stay in the woods as 
long as I could. 

The second night I slept on the watch, knowing that not a 
man of the company would come near to take me in the day- 
time, but fearing they might see and watch me until night came 
on, and afte$ I was asleep, seize me. I did not get much sleep; 
every noise I heard aroused me, and I would jump up and pre- 
sent my gun at what I imagined was a man. 

The second day I picked some more berries, but found that 
they did not satisfy my cravings. I had been used to liquor 
every day, and to be deprived of it now was as bad to me as 
taking away my bread, and I hardly know which I missed the 
most. I wandered around all the first part of the day, and as 
the sun began to sink in the heavens, I thought I would try my 
luck and see if I could not get out safely. I had taken partic- 
ular notice of the woods and the lay of the land, so that I 
could find my way out, and, taking ray course, started to go 
back. I walked quite briskly for about half an hour, and began 
to think that it was time for me to get out of the forest ; but I 
kept on some time. I had no idea that I had gone so far into 
the woods, but after walking some distance further, I could see 
the open fields. 

I went along now cautiously, looking upon all sides to see if 
any one was near ; but not seeing any person, I went out into 
a field. Finding myself not far from the place where I entered 
the woods, I crossed the field to the road, and as I got near it 
I saw two men coming. I thought if I went back across the 
field they .would surely see me, so I laid down beside the fence, 



120 NARROW ESCAPE. 

and as they came along I heard one say, 'He will be shrewd, 
enough not to fall into their hands, I'll warrant you.' ' But,' 
says the other, 'how can he get out? the places are all guarded, 
and he cannot help being taken ' and here I could not un- 
derstand what was said. 

Well, I thought to myself, my chance is a hard one, and get- 
ting up, I looked about me and saw a wagon coming. I must 
keep still at present, or I shall be taken. What a fool, I said 
to myself, am I for coming out here in open day. I might have 
known better, if I had stopped to consider, than to leave the 
woods. I waited until the wagon had passed, and then thought 
I would make for the forest, but I saw another wagon coming, 
and I was kept there until night, when I returned to the forest, 
feeling thankful that it once more afforded me a secure retreat. 

I managed to get some berries, which partially satisfied my 
craving for food, and having selected a place to rest, I broke 
off some twigs, and spreading them around, I laid down to 
sleep. 

I staid in this wood just one week, when I made up my mind 
to get out and go down where my wife lived and get something 
to eat, and run the risk of being taken, as I was almost starved. 

I went to the edge of the wood, and when it was dark took 
a back route, and went down to what was called ' Lower Cove,' 
and as I was Groins: through the streets I met two of the ser- 
geants. They knew me the moment they saw me, and I start- 
ed on a run, into my wife's uncle's house, the sergeants after 
me. I ran out of the back door, down to where my wife lived, 
and went into the house and got something to eat and a cup 
of tea, and bidding my wife good-by, I hurried out of the 
house, telling her that I would see her again before long. I 
went down the street (it being dark and the soldiers after me) 
upon all-fours, like a dog, until I came to the sea-side, and 
keeping near the water's edge, walked along until I came to a 
high cliff. I swam around the several cliffs, near a mile, until 
I came to Marsh Bridge, and dragged myself upon dry land, 



GETTING AWAY FROM THE INDIANS. 121 

chilled and exhausted; and here I was a little bewildered, and 
crossed the bridge, taking ray right-hand road instead of the 
the left, as I should have done, before I went over. I trudged 
on in the dark until I was suddenly seized by some Indians and 
taken prisoner by them to their encampment. 

The English were at this time paying the Indians five pounds 
per man for every deserter they could bring in. Of course the 
red-skins were fast friends to us lonely wanderers, and were 
ready to take us in. I was made to lie down between two 
strong fellows, for the night, to sleep if I could. One thing was 
sure, if I did not sleep, I played sleep to the best of my abili- 
ty. The Indians had been out on a hunt during the day, and 
being pretty tired, were not long in getting to noddle's island ; 
of which I was notified by their loud snoring. Generally speak- 
ing, snoring was very offensive to me ; but I must confess, un- 
der the peculiar state of things, no music was so sweet as that 
made by the snouts of these red men. And I said inwardly, 
blow your nasal organs louder and longer, and keep doing so 
until distance lends enchantment. 

I arose, first on one knee, and then on the other; and, look- 
ing round, I saw a stick of wood against the door, with which 
I thought I would brain the rascals ; but wisely decided their 
blood should not be on my head if I could get off without it. 
I finally succeeded in getting outside the wigwam without wak- 
ing my captives, and escaped, by the way I came, down to 
Marsh bridge ; and crossing, got upon the right road, and un- 
der cover of night, made my way rapidly up the river, into the 
woods to the house of two Catholics, who had been made my 
true friends by my charge on the Orangemen and saving their 
church. 

These two men promised to help me escape down the St. 
John river, in a small boat, to the steamer 'Maid of Erin;' ly- 
ing at St. John, and bound for the States. A hiding-place was 
prepared for me in the woods, where I had to remain several 
days, coming out occasionally to get something to eat. One 



122 REACHING THE STATES. 

morning, .about three o'clock, these faithful fellows came and 
took me down to the steamer, where I was stowed down in the 
coal-hole. The priest who came to me at Fort Howe to save 
his chapel, had enjoined upon these men to save me from be- 
ing retaken, under the penalty of being anathematized by the 
church, if they were not faithful to their trust. On reaching the 
steamer, they told the man who knew of my coming on board, 
if he informed against me it would not be safe for him to ap- 
pear in St. John again. I knew that before the steamer sailed 
officers would be on board to search for deserters, so I dug 
down into the coal, covering myself entirely with it, until the 
officers had made their search and left. 

After the steamer had got under way, I showed myself on 
deck, and the ticket master coming along, wanted my fare, 
which was two dollars. Having but one dollar, I got the helms- 
man to lend me another, and told him that my wife would pay 
him. 

I intended to get out at Eastport, but as there was a severe 
storm, the boat could not land, and I went to Portland, Maine. 
When the boat touched the wharf I jumped out, and asked the 
captain if I was on 'Yankee land?' 'Yes,' says the captain, 
staring at me, as I jumped up and gave three cheers, 'but are 
you Sergeant Ambler?' ' That's my name,' I said. The cap- 
tain turned and went below. 

Now I felt that I was free, and, turning around, hardly knew 
what to do, I felt so happy; it had been so long since I had en- 
joyed freedom, that I was like a bird let out of a cage. I felt 
that I was in a new world ; the great country that I had heard 
of from my youth up, and for which I had sighed when in the 
lonely hours of night I kept my sentry watch, or when beneath 
a scorching sun I marched many a weary'mile, was now before 
me. This free country (of which so many songs were heard 
around the tap-room bar, as we would quaff the ale, and jovially 
pass the time away) I had now reached. 

As I stood upon the wharf, what prospects seemed to be be- 



GENERAL SOLILOQUY. 123 

fore me ! Everything looked beautiful, and I thought that at 
last I had reached a land where 1 could enjoy life. No more 
court-martials to be tried before, no more shall I be brought 
before commanding officers, to answer to charges brought against 
me. And above all these, I thought, no more liquor to take 
away my reason, and make me incapable of performing the 
duties incumbent upon me. No more restraints upon my ac- 
tions, I can now live as I choose, and go where I wish. Had I 
been permitted to look into the future, I should have shuddered 
at the gloomy wretched prospect before me, and should have 
turned with disgust from the country that looked so beautiful, 
and returned to the army. How thankful should we be that 
the future, with its weal or woe, cannot be revealed to us. 

I thought that I stood in the same position that the Pilgrim 
fathers did. They left their native land for this country, to 
free themselves from tyranny and oppression. But I thought 
again, that no friends welcomed them, and the bustle that 
greeted me they did not witness. They landed indeed in a 
strange land ; the wild animal was lord there, and forest trees 
covered these shores. How great the change ! Friends were 
here to welcome me, who had escaped from the army. 

And as these thoughts came upon me, I could not but un- 
cover my head and pay a tribute of respect to the noble land 
that sheltered and defended me and so many of my country- 
men. Only those who have passed through the scenes that I 
have can realize the emotions that were stirred within mo as I 
stepped upon the land of freedom. 



124 GETTING POSTED. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



I went up into the city, and as I came near the sugar-house 
I met a woman that knew me, and she said, * There is Sergeant 
Ambler coming.' Her husband belonged to the artillery, and 
had, a short time before, made his escape from St. John. 

She asked me into her house and gave me something to eat. 
With what eagerness I seized the food and devoured it, for I 
had been without so long, that I was nearly starved. When I 
went on board the steamboat I had a small piece of bread, 
which I ate, and that was all I had eaten for three days, I now 
felt very hungry and weak. 

I informed her that I had got away from the army at last, 
and that I supposed it was easier for her to get along here than 
it w^as in the other country, when she stood behind the tap- 
room bar — she used to sell liquor in St. John. * What do you 
mean?' she asked. 

* Why, that they do not sell rum here in this place.' 

She laughed, and said, 4 1 guess that you'll find as much liquor 
as you will want here.' 

4 Why,' I said, 'I thought there was a law here that forbids 
liquor selling. I have heard the people in St. John speak of 

it; 

4 You wait here a short time and you can judge for yourself,' 
she said. 

I remained a short time there, and soon her husband came, 
who appeared very glad to see me, and after lighting our pipes, 
I told over my adventures that I had passed through in making 
my escape. He also related to me what success he had met 



GETTING TO WORK. 125 

with in the 'Yankee land,' as we designated the United States. 
I informed him of my marriage, and that my wife was in St. John, 
and that if I obtained work here I intended to send for her. 

'Well, come Ambler,' he said, 'let me show you around a 
little,' and he took me ont into a back room and pulled out a 
keg from under the bed, and drew off some liquor, and filling 
up a glass, presented it to me, which I drank. It had been so 
long since I had drank, that it created an intolerable thirst for 
more, and before I was fully aware of it, I was intoxicated. 

I stopped in that back room that night, and the next morn- 
ing went to find work, and was successful in getting a chance 
on the railroad, shoveling gravel. I received one dollar per 
day, which I thought was great pay, and that I could live and 
drink like a hero, not taking into consideration that things 
were more than twice as high here as they were in England. 
I worked here, with nothing on my feet but a pair of slippers, 
in the* water sometimes knee-deep, but my ' boss,' taking pity 
upon me, gave me a nice pair of thick boots. I worked here 
about three weeks before I settled, and found that a good part 
of what money I received, would have to go to pay for the 
liquor that I drank, as I took it regularly, night and morning, 
and I found that it was sold some higher here per glass. 

While I was at work here, I sent for my wife, telling her that 
I had obtained work, and that I should like for her to come on. 

My wife's lather had lived at D , and owned a fine farm 

there. He was a ship-builder and transacted considerable bus- 
iness, but he died in the midst of it, and thus left many unset- 
tled accounts, and as there was no one to look out for the 
property, it was soon reduced, and the fine farm had to be sold. 

The family then moved to St. John, and as they went in the 
first society and lived in good style, they had to keep up ap- 
pearances, which they did, by selling piece after piece of their 
furniture, as it could be spared. When I first became acquaint- 
ed with my wife, they were somewhat reduced in circumstances. 

My wife was not aware that I was such a drinking man as I 



126 SETTING UP HOUSE-KEEPING. 

was ; if she had been she would never have come to Portland 
to live with me. I had always kept pretty sober when I was 
going to see her ; .and if, when under the influence of liquor, I 
met her upon the street, I would keep as distant as possible, 
and take the first opportunity to absent myself; and although 
she was told by others, she could not believe that I was as bad 
as they represented me. I soon received a letter from her, tell- 
ing me that she would come in the boat such a day. I was at 
the wharf on the arrival of the boat, and met her, and we 
went to the place that I had stopped and remained there that 
night; but as they could not accommodate us, and as my wife 
had brought some furniture with her, we took a rent in an attic. 
It was a miserable place. We could see out through the roof, 
and were never long in finding out when it rained. 

I did not like my situation on the railroad, and went to the 
gas-works, and obtained a situation in the purifying house, where 
I received the same pay. Soon after, I moved into a tenement 
in the house of my employer, named Barker, who took quite an 
interest in me, and did many favors for me, which I never shall 
forget. 

In a short time, I moved into the upper part of the city, into 
an old house, and while there my wife was taken sick. During 
her sickness I still had to work, leaving her alone until I re- 
turned from my labor. She was very sick, and while thus sho 
made me promise that I would leave off drinking. In a shorn 
time, she began to recover, but when she got about I forgot my 
promise, and drank the same as ever. The house we lived in 
was so cold that we could not keep ourselves comfortable, and 
I therefore got a tenement down by the sugar-house ; and soon 
after I moved, my wife's mother came to visit us. 

It was now near the spring election, and in the shop where I 
obtained my liquor all of the talk was upon that subject ; and 
we were told that if such a man was elected, that we should 
get no liquor, and that if we were suspected of keeping any at 
our houses, that we were liable to have our homes searched. I 



BUM AND WRETCHEDNESS. 127 

wished, from the bottom of my heart (as all poor drunkards do), 
that all strong drinks were out of the way; but then the rum- 
seller told us that assembled there, that our rights were assail- 
ed ; and as I was a great stickler for rights, of course my indig- 
nation was aroused, and with the rest I loudly asserted that I 
would never submit to have my home searched. This was a 
constant theme for some time before the election, and although 
I was not a voter, I felt as much interest in the result as any 
one. The day of the election came, and I was treated, as about 
all were, to plenty of rum ; and we were told that at night they 
— that is, the rummies, were going to give Neal Dow* a sere- 
nade. I was in for it, with the rest of them, as I was intoxi- 
cated, and at night I was amongst the gang of ruffians (as I look 
upon them now) and went with them to his residence. There 
we commenced our unearthly strains, and made the air resound 
with our noise, and the night hideous. No notice was taken of 
our demoniac exhibitions, and at last we left disgusted, or I was, 
with the evening's entertainment. 

I drank so hard that my wife's mother could not put up with 
it, and she got me to go with her to New York, where she had 
a son. When I arrived there, her son showed me around the 
city and the suburbs; but as they lived in good style, and as I 
was not used to it, I did not feel at home; so the next morn- 
ing, before they were up, I started off, and went to an island 
near, where there was a regiment of soldiers, and saw many 
there that I knew. They wanted me to go with them to Cali- 
fornia, as that was the place they were ordered to ; but I would 
not go, and I soon left the island. I since learned that every 
man of the regiment was lost on their passage. I took the 
steamboat for Boston, and, arriving there, I went into the fort, 
and with some other soldiers got intoxicated, and hardly knew 
myself where I did pass the time; but I stopped there three 
days, and then took the boat for Portland, and when I arrived 
there, I had not a cent in my pocket. The 4th of July, 1852, 1 

* I have had, since that time, the pleasure of asking the gentleman's pardon. 



128 CAUGHT ON THE ADMIRAL. 

was living in Portland, and the morning after, having nothing in 
the house to eat, I started out, and in going up the street I found 
twenty-live cents, and a short distance further on I picked up 
twenty-five cents more. "With this money, I went into a pro- 
vision store, and bought me some beef, and carried it home. I 
obtained a chance to work in the foundry, and while there, I 
used to drink hard, and neglect home. About this time an in- 
cident happened that came near depriving me of my liberty 
that I prized so dear. I was going to the depot one day, when 
a soldier met me that had escaped from the same regiment that I 
did, and he said, ' Sergeant Ambler, your old captain lias just 
gone aboard the Admiral.' 

* Well,' I said, ' I will go down and see him.' 

* If you do, you will be taken,' said the deserter, c for he is 
after , and a number of others that have escaped.' 

'I will risk his taking me, and I am going down to see him,' 
I said, and starting off, I weut down to the wharf, and went on 
board the steamer; but not seeing the captain on deck, I went 
into the cabin, and saw him. The moment he saw me, he said, 
' Ah ! Sergeant Ambler, how do you do ? ' 

I took off my hat, as I was accustomed to do in the army, 
and saluted him, and said that I was pretty well ; and looking 
toward him at the same time, I noticed his wife in the state- 
room, and being acquainted with her, I went in and spoke to 
her; and as I turned to come out, I found the door fast. I put 
my shoulder against it and broke it open, and as I stepped out 
into the cabin, the captain said, 'You are my prisoner.' Pay- 
ing no attention to his words, I hurried out of the cabin and 
jumped upon the wharf, and then I turned to my former cap- 
tain that had followed me, and said, ' Good by, captain, I will 
meet you again,' and then turned to go home. The excitement 
had taken my strength almost away. Arriving home, I found 
my wife almost crazy, as some one had told her that I was 
taken a prisoner, and was carried off in the Admiral ; but my 
presence put an end to her grief, and I felt pleased in getting 
away so easily. 



FOLLOWING A LOOM TO BIDDEFOED. 129 



CHAPTER XX. 

I did not feel quite at home in Portland after my adventure 
with the captain, and one day I was going toward the depot, 
when I saw a loom. I was somewhat surprised, as I had not 
seen one since I left England, and inquired of a man where it 
was going. He informed me that it was going to the mills in 
Saco, Me. I went home to my wife with an idea in my head, 
and telling her that I meant to follow that loom, I found her 
perfectly willing. 

The next day I settled in the foundry, and took the cars for 
Saco, and on arriving there, went down to the mills, but they 
would not let me go in ; so I went over to Biddeford, on the 
other side of the river, and went into the Pepperell counting- 
room and got a permit. I went into the weave-room, and met 
a fellow-countryman, and asked him for work. 'What can 
thee do, lad ? ' he asked in the Yorkshire tone. I replied in the 
same tone, that I wanted to learn to weave, and that I used to 
weave when in England. He said that he would take me, and 
the next morning I went in and commenced work. I was 
placed in charge of a man to learn me to weave, but when I 
had worked two hours, he went to the overseer and asked him 
what he meant in fooling him, for the fellow, he said, can weave 
as well as I can. The overseer then came and put me upon 
two looms, and the next day I commenced to work upon four 
and earned one dollar a day. 

I worked about three weeks and then I went after my wife. 
I moved my furniture to Biddeford, and, not getting a tenement, 
we boarded on Alfred street. I went back into the mill, and 
soon run eight looms a day, having a small girl to shuttle 'cops' 
for me. 

9 



130 TEE RUNAWAY PIGS. 

I took my wife into the room, where I worked and learned 
her to weave, and we both used to make about sixty dollars a 
month. I paid thirteen dollars and fifty cents per month for 
my board, and of the balance of my money, I am sorry to say, 
the most of it went for liquor. I did not get drunk, but I could 
take quite a number of glasses a day, which, at the end of the 
month, would make quite a bill. I had drunk much liquor in 
mydife, but the 'Yankee liquor' did not agree with me as well 
as that which I got in the British dominions, and I was taken 
sick, and went up into the country, out of the way of liquor, 
and soon recovered. When I returned I went into the mill 
again, and kept pretty steady, and in a month we had saved 
up fifty dollars. I felt pretty well pleased, and began to think 
about going to house-keeping ; so I moved to Sullivan street, 
and as soon as I had got settled, my wife's mother came from 
Kew York to visit us. I felt the importance of making every 
thing telj, and invested a part of my funds in a couple of pigs, 
and, fixing up a place for them, I put them into their new quar- 
ters. I felt well pleased with my pigs, as they were the first 
animals I ever owned, and took real comfort in looking at them 

All went smoothly for about a week, when a small boy came 
into the mill and reported to me that my pigs had broken out 
of barracks, and that my wife's mother, with an escort of boys, 
were after the deserters, but had not succeeded in arresting 
them. I went to the overseer and asked him to let me go out 
and find my pigs, but he would not. I remained in the mill as 
long as I could ; I seemed to see my pigs running before me as 
I went about my work, and feeling that necessity demanded it 
I went out to find them. I went to my house, but my pigs 
were not there. I then started and went back upon the heights 
and met my wife's mother, with her escort, returning in tri- 
umph with the prisoners in a bushel basket. I carried my pigs 
home and secured them in the pen, and then returned to the 
mill, informing the workmen that I had been successful ; but 
they made fun of my pigs, and my wife laughed at me. 



DRINKING UP THE PIGS. 131 

Those two pigs were the instruments in bringing considerable 
trouble upon rae. My overseer proposed that I should stand 
treat, as I had found my pigs, and I could not well refuse. We 
went out anjl I treated him, but as soon as I had the first glass 
I wanted another, and thus I went on until I got intoxicated. 
I stopped out of the mill a week and spent all the money I 
had, and then my glasses that I ran in debt for were chalked 
down upon the door. The man's name, that kept the shop, 
was Swindle (a name very appropriate to his business), and he 
had chalked down to me, besides what I had spent, three dol- 
lars, and to get his pay, he wanted me to sell my pigs. I took 
my pigs one morning, after I had got partially over my spree, 
one under each arm, and started off to find a customer. I found 
one on Alfred Street, and disposed of both of them, and meet- 
ing some persons that I knew, I invited them into Swindle's, 
and before I left we had drank my pigs all up. I got quite in- 
toxicated while in the shop, and had some light skirmishing. 
One young man I thought had insulted me, and I watched an 
opportunity to chastise him, but did not get a chance when in 
the shop. When he went out I followed, and, overtaking him 
upon Adams Street, I commenced to box him, when, escaping 
from me, he seized a large stone and threw it at me, but for- 
tunately it did not strike me. He then started on a run, and I 
followed, but not making much progress in running he escaped. 

I went back to the shop, and after getting a few more glass- 
es, I started for home. I succeeded in getting as far as Alfred 
street, but even in that short distance a number of persons ran 
against me, and once I got against the broadside of a building, 
and it seemed to whirl around so that it was with the utmost 
difficulty I made my way along ; and the last I remember for the 
night I was by the side of the road trying to find my hat in 
the gutter. Early in the morning I came to myself, and found 
that I was in the mud. I crawled out, looking rather sheepish, 
and made my way toward home. I soon became sobered, and felt 
very bad that I had spent my money, and thus made a beast of 



132 OLD SKILLINGS' HORSE. 

myself; and I went back to work with the determination to 
keep steady, that is, only to take my regular dram. I thought 
that I could not get along without that, as I had, a great por- 
tion of my life, been accustomed to it. 

At this point I had another trouble. My wife's mother had 
been living with us, and this drunk quite upset her, and she de- 
termined not to stay longer with such a degraded son-in-law, 
and -asked me to get a team and take her to the depot with her 
trunks. So I went on to the street and met Isaac Clifford, and 
asked him if he could tell me where to get a team to take her 
to the depot. He said yes, you can get Skillings'. He has got 
a horse that wont let you ride in the dust after anybody, for he 
is a regular black hawk ; can go in 2 : 40 ; can beat the engine ; 
and the old man is a No. 1 horse-jockey, and can just drive him 
too. So I went and found the old fellow, and told him to call 
at my house, on Sullivan street, next day, at 10 o'clock, to take 
me and mother with* her trunk to the station. He says, 
'Where is your house?' I told him, it was the next house to 
Judge Berry's. 'All right,' says Skillings, 'I'll be on hand.' 

Next day at the time named I heard a knock at my door, and 
went to the door to see who was there, and as I opened the 
door I saw Skillings with his beautiful steed hitched into a reg- 
ular go-cart. ' Good morning,' said he. ' Good morning,' says 
I. 'And is that your team?' 'Yes,' said he, 'I guess it is no 
other one's.' Well, the horse looked to me like the old pewter- 
cased watch that John Gould once sold to me, for all the watch- 
makers in Biddeford could not wind it up into going order. I 
said, ' Skillings, is that the horse that Clifford says can beat a 
flash of lightning his whole length on trotting a mile?' 'It is 
true, as I am a misbegotten son of poverty,' said the old man. 
Didn't I laugh. He looked to me as if he was a number of de- 
grees below any horse flesh I had yet seen ; such a poor jackass- 
looking skeleton of a horse I never saw before. He looked as 
if he had just been marched from the camp of starvation, and 
had been fed on water gruel after being all night in a barrel of 



THE RIDE TO THE DEPOT. 133 

molasses and water. His hair was looking a thousand ways for 
Sunda}', — long-necked, cat-hammed, heavy-headed, flat-eared, 
crooked-shanked, narrow-chested, swelled-hocked, and as solemn 
as if he had been contemplating his latter end for the last twen- 
ty years. And his tail, — oh what a tail! It looked as if it hacl 
been cut off and drove in, being pretty well battered and bushed 
up in the operation ; or, as Mark Twain says, ' he had set clown 
on it too hard.' "Well, it is no use, I won't attempt any further 
delineation of that wonderful horse, and the cart was altogeth- 
er indescribable, especially the jolting part of it; but on our 
way to the depot I could say, without exaggeration, that it was 
better felt than expressed. 

What a jolting, and creaking, and splashing, and din; 
The whip how it cracks, and the wheels how they spin ; 
How the mud right and left o'er the hedges is hurled, 
Old Skillings at length makes a noise in the world. 

And in this way I, poor man, had to accompany my poor 
mother to the train, which was to bear her away ; and all this 
for selling my pigs and getting drunk on the proceeds. I could 
say, * O Poverty, where are thy charms that sages have seen in 
thy face?' 

I had been at work pretty steadily for three months, when 
my overseer asked me one day if I should not like to go out 
and take a drop. As I could never resist an invitation, I went 
out with him and his brother into a liquor shop, where the over- 
seer treated us, and I followed. We drank quite a number of 
glasses, and, going over into Saco, we drank more there ; and, 
to finish our day's recreation, the overseer proposed that we 
should go up by the railroad bridge, and have a swing. We 
went up by the side of the river, and while there, the overseer 
laid down upon the bank, and fell asleep. His brother proposed, 
as he had only treated once, to rob him, and to treat ourselves, 
to which I readly assented. We searched his pockets, but found 
no money there ; but I knew that he had money about him, 
and I was not disheartened yet, and pulling off his boots, I 



134 BOBBING TEE 0VE11SEER. 

found in his stockings forty-one dollars. When his brother saw 
it, he said, 'Now we will have a spree, let us go over to Saco 
again.' 'I am ready,' I said, and, starting off, we went over, 
leaving the overseer asleep on the ground. 

"When we arrived at Saco we went into a shop, and called 
for some liquor and drank it, and I paid for it with my own 
money, as I had some left. My companion wanted me to break 
into the money, but as I had some left of my own, I would not. 
We soon went over to Biddeford, and I gave the money to my 
wife, telling her at the same time where I obtained it. The 
next morning, when I went into the mill, the overseer, the mo- 
ment he saw me, became very much excited, and with harsh 
language asked me where his money was. C I have not your 
money,' I replied. He soon left me, but my wife came in soon, 
and, going over where he was, gave him the money, and told him 
the circumstances about it. He felt so well pleased that he went 
out and brought in a bottle of brandy and treated us, unknown 
to my wife. 

I was in the habit of going with a scout into the woods every 
Sunday to learn them the military drill, and to go through the 
sword exercise, and thus pass God's day. We often ended in 
a regular drunken skirmish, and returned home carrying the 
marks of war upon us. 



GETTING BETTER LIQUOB. 135 



CHAPTER XXI. 

As I went to and from my work, I noticed a pretty polite 
little fellow that kept a saloon in Dudley's block. When I met 
him he would most of the time have a covered basket, and 
many were the conjectures that were made in regard to what 
he carried in that basket. I thought one day that I would go 
into his shop and see if he kept anything to drink. I therefore 
went in and asked him for a glass of ale, which he gave me, 
and I thought that it tasted much better than that which I ob- 
tained at other places. I followed getting my beer regularly 
here for some time, and was treated so politely by the keeper 
of the shop that I could not help thinking how foolish I had 
been in getting my liquor at the low holes, as I thought they 
were, that I had been accustomed to. In a room in the back 
part of the shop was a domino-table, around which quite a 
number of young men would be seated every night. I used to 
be called quite a skillful player when I was in the army, and 
the table attracted my attention, and I soon commenced to 
play there, and used to win tickets which I would spend for 
beer. One evening, while playing there, I noticed a teamster 
coming into the shop, and he made some motions, upon which 
the keeper reached under the counter (I had my eye upon him), 
and taking a cover from a butter-firkin, pulled out a decanter, 
ont of which he turned a glass of liquor and handed to the 
teamster, who drank it down in a hurry. I soon finished the 
game and arose and asked the keeper for a glass of that article 
that he kept under the counter. 

* Won't you say anything about it?' he asked. 

'Of course not,' I replied. 



136 THE CUSTARD MAN. 

The keeper then turned out a stiff glass, and telling me to 
drink quick, I eagerly seized it, and drank it instantly. I never 
drank such liquor before ; I thought that it would truly burn 
me up, and in my eagerness to get some water, I kicked over 
the domino-table and made considerable confusion before I 
succeeded. 

'What kind of liquor do you call that?' I asked. 

' Why, that is the fourth-proof brandy, and the very best 
that can be obtained,' he replied. 

4 We never have such liquor as that in the old country,' I 
said. 

4 Ah! you get cheated there; they don't care what they sell 
to a man, and they probably water it considerably before sell- 
ing, but we don't treat our customers so.' 

T felt quite satisfied with the reasons that he had given me, 
and thought that I had found a place where I could get good 
liquor. 

There was one young man who visited that place, a free- 
hearted and pleasant fellow, that did not spend his tickets for 
liquor (that he won by playing dominos), but for custards. 
The keeper of the saloon, when settlement was near in the 
ship-yard, would bake up some two or three dozens of custards 
expressly for this young man, who always came in as soon as 
settlement, and commence at one end of the custard board and 
* sweep all before him.' And it was a common saying among 
the frequenters of the saloon, when near settlement, to say that 
it was about ' custard time.' I continued to get my liquor at 
this place on ' tick,' which I would square up every settlement, 
paying from five to ten dollars for liquor per month. 

One night, while in this saloon, I took quite a number of 
glasses, and when he closed his shop I heard the sound of a 
fiddle behind it in a small house. Having some pork and beans 
and herring for my Sunday dinner, as this was Saturday night, 
I buried them in the snow, and then went up to the house and 
went in. I was acquainted with a number, and joined in the 



GETTING INTO A FIGHT. 137 

dance with them. After having danced a short time, a woman 
asked me if I was not going to treat, upon which I ordered a 
quart, which was brought and drank ; and after drinking I said 
something that enraged some of them, and they seized me to 
put me out of the house. I knocked down quite a number, 
but they overpowered me and put me out, minus my hat and 
part of my coat. I felt that I was an injured man, and I start- 
ed upon a run for the watchman at the covered bridge, but as 
I went running toward him bare-headed, without my hat, he 
took to his heels and ran with all his might, and finding that I 
could get no help, I determined to venture into the house again. 
I went in and found that they had broken the fiddle and were 
abusing the fiddler. I took his part, but being the weaker 
party, we were roughly handled, and put out of the house into 
the street. I went and found my provisions that I had secreted 
in the snow, and, having found my hat, I started toward home 
with my companion, who made a grab at my herrings, taking a 
number of them. I told him that if he was not peaceable that 
I should box him ; but he paid no attention to it, but made an- 
other levy upon my herrings. This somewhat aroused me, 
when I began to box him, giving him a pretty severe whipping, 
but lost some of my provisions. I went home in a somewhat 
dilapidated condition, and I have found ever since, that 'those 
that dance must pay the fiddler.' One night I was in the 'Yan- 
kee Saloon,' as the English termed it ; and as he did not have 
much liquor, I went into an Irish house, and there I met an 
Englishman, and we drank together, and in the course of the 
evening we got to quarrelling and he challenged me to fight 
him. At that time I was ready for a challenge, and we went 
out in the street ; the snow was some two feet deep, and we 
fought some two hours. We both found ourselves in a sorry 
plight at the close of our long-contested conflict. I remember 
going home feeling rather ashamed. I tried to keep steady 
again, and succeeded in doing so about one month, and saved 
up a little money, and with it I bought me a watch, the first 



138 HUNTING FOE ANOTHER CHANCE. 

one I ever owned. Soon after I bought my watch, I thought I 
would show myself in the saloon kept by the polite fellow in 
Dudley's block. I had not been in there for some time before, 
and when I entered the keeper remarked, ' What a stranger 
you are ! ' ' Yes, I am somewhat a stranger,' I replied. ' Come 
and take a glass, will you?' he asked. <I never refuse/ I replied, 
going up to the counter and drinking the liquor that he set be- 
fore me. 

I drank quite a number of glasses that evening, and traded 
watches a number of times, and made something in trading. I 
followed up trading watches, and made some forty dollars, 
which I soon spent on a spree, and sold the watch that I had 
left for five dollars, which I spent for drink. After I recovered 
from my spree, I again said that I would keep steady, and I 
kept so for some six weeks, and then one morning I was told 
that I was a father; and as it was the custom in the old coun- 
try to take a drop, and as I felt happy, I went to the saloon, 
and obtained a glass, and then another, and became quite intox- 
icated, and remained so for some three weeks. When I came 
to myself, I told my wife that it would not answer for me to 
stop in Biddeford, and asked her one night to make me up a 
bundle of clothes, and I would leave Bidleford, and try and find 
some place where I could work without getting drunk. My 
w r ife picked up my things, and one morning, bidding her good- 
by,'I started off. I went up on the heights, and then turned 
around and looked back to the house. I felt bad to leave my 
wife, and thought to myself that if liquor was out of the way, 
how happy I could live, and what comfort I could take in life. 
I thought some of returning, 'but it's no use,' I said to myself, 
'if I stop here, I shall die;' and, turning my back toward my 
home, I walked away. I continued my way until I came oppo- 
site the rum-shop kept by Swindle, and I thought that as I was 
about leaving town I would go In and bid my friend good-by. 
I entered his shop and told him where I was going. 

1 Well, take a glass before you go,' he said, taking down a da- 



WANTING TO GO UP. 139 

Canter. 'I don't care if I do,' I replied; and drinking it down, 
I was upon the point of leaving, when an acquaintance of mine 
proffered me another glass, which I drank. I did not intend to 
get intoxicated, but was bent upon getting out of Biddcford. I 
therefore bade the keeper good day, and went up to the depot, 
and went into the ticket office, and producing a two dollar bill, 
I asked the man to give me a ticket to carry me as far as they 
could for the money. 'Do you wish to go down? 'he asked. 
No, sir,' I replied, 'I have been going down for some time, and 
I want to go up now.' He gave me a ticket, with some change, 
for Newbnryport. I waited some time for the cars, and when 
they came I went aboard, and got out at Newbnryport. I was 
in rather a poor condition ; I looked as if I had been dropped 
from the bag that is generally carried on behind a tin-man's 
cart. 

I went down to the mills, and succeeded in getting a situa- 
tion in the Ocean Mills, and my employer obtained a boarding- 
place for me. I went to work the next morning, and kept pret- 
ty steady for about a month. At the end of the month I wrote 
to my wife (I had learned to write, so that with some labor she 
could decipher it), and sent her the balance of the money that 
I had left after paying my board. I owed a small grocery bill 
in Biddeford, and as my wife was about to move, the furniture 
was attached ; but my wife's mother paid the bill, and she moved 
to Newburyport, where I was. I met her at the depot, and as 
I had a tenement ready to move into, we soon got settled in our 
new quarters, and my wife felt well pleased with the change. I 
told her that I had not drank since I left Biddeford. I kept 
steady for a short time after my wife and her mother came ; but 
one evening, as I was in the store where I obtained my pro- 
visions, I saw the keeper hand the man a small flask, and imme- 
diately my old appetite was aroused, and I went home and pro- 
cured a small bottle, and, returning to the store, I had it filled 
with brandy, and put down in my store-book as groceries. I 
had s^one but a short distance before I drank the whole of it. 



140 WIFE MISTRUSTED ME. 

I went to the house and went to bed, without my wife's know- 
ing that I had been drinking. The bottle I would get filled 
regularly every other night ; but my wife soon began to mis- 
trust me, and when the month was out, and she saw the bill 
that we owed for groceries, she was astonished. But I told her 
that grocery bills would tell up fast, and that I expected our 
bill would be somewhere about that amount. But she was not 
satisfied, and said that if I would leave off trading at that place, 
she would go into the mill to work. I left that place, and found 
another, and my wife went to work, leaving the child to the 
care of her mother. I am surprised, as I look back upon my 
past career, to see what a life I led ; but I know that the bad, 
as well as the good, must go together in making up these pages, 
and that I should fail to give my life, unless I told the scenes 
that I have passed through, although I often blush to think of 
them. 



A SET-TO WITH STICK8. 141 



CHAPTER XXII. 

At the place where I now obtained my groceries, I found that 
there was more liquor sold than at the old place, anil in a short 
time I drank as* hard as ever. I made the acquaintance of some 
Englishmen who were great drinkers, and we used to have some 
merry times together, and as I was a pretty good singer, these 
fellows would get me to go out evenings and sing, and then 
treat me. We used to frequent a certain rum-shop, and play 
cards until morning, and then I would go home and get a little 
sleep, and then go to my work at the usual time; this I fol- 
lowed up for some weeks. The Sabbath day I would join a 
scout of fellows who went off to play cards. I would not play, 
put would keep watch while the others did. 

One Sunday I went down to a liquor shop, and the keeper 
told me that there was a smart fencer in the place, and that he 
had challenged me to fight with the sticks, saying that the one 
who received the first blow should pay for a pint of gin. I ac- 
cepted the challenge, and the man was brought in, and I was 
introduced to him. We went into a large cellar, and finding a 
couple of broom handles, we commenced in good earnest. I soon 
found that I had a hard one to deal with, and I brought out all 
the skill that I was master of; and, at last, by a dexterous move- 
ment, I struck his arm, knocking the stick instantly from his 
hand. The keeper of this shop was out of liquor, but he said 
that he could get some at the shop that supplied him ; and, tak- 
ing a jug, he started off, and soon returned with some gin, as 
he said, and tasting of it pronounced it good liquor. Turning 
out three glasses, he mixed them up, and then passed them to 



142 DRINKING THE FLUID. 

us, and we all three drank. I thought that .the first glass that 
I drank at the ' Yankee Saloon ' at Biddeford was strong, but 
it was nothing compared with this. It was something like tak- 
ing down live coals, and I fairly yelled with pain, while the 
other two rolled upon the floor. I said to the keeper that it 
was the hottest stuff that I ever took into my throat. I hardly 
knew what to do ; the keeper took to his bed, and as I could 
not rest, I went out of the shop toward home. As I was going 
along on the street, I thought I should burn up. I told my wife 
that I had drank some gin clown to Fowles', and that I thought 
he had made a mistake, and given me fluid, i could not rest 
at home, and I therefore went down to the rum-shop again, and 
found him in as bad, if not in a worse condition than I was. 
We sent to the place where the gin came from, and found out 
that the man had made a mistake, and sent us fluid. I took an 
oath that if I got out of this scrape, I would never drink again. 
I went to work, and kept steady for a short time, and at settle- 
ment, when I went to pay my bill at the grocery store, the 
keeper wanted to know what the trouble was, that my bill was 
so small. I told him that I was going to be a temperate man. 
The next day I went after some groceries, and as he had just 
taken in a fresh supply of liquor, the keeper said, * Now, Am- 
bler, we have got some of the best of English cogniac, and I 
want you to come in and take a glass.' He knew that if he 
could get me to take one glass, that I should want another. I 
looked at the door where he used to chalk the glasses down 
against me, the last time that I was in there; the two panels of 
the door were covered with chalk-marks, but now they were all 
rubbed out ; they were all settled. I was pondering what to 
do, when the voice of the keeper aroused me. c Come,' he said, 
'I'm bound to treat you at my expense.' I drank the liquor, 
and &>on the chalk-marks began to make their appearance upon 
the door again. I went that night with my old associates, and 
we had a drinking party. 

The next day I staid out of the mill, and, in company with 



GETTING INTO ANOTHER MUSS. 143 

six others, went on a 'spree.' At night we went into an Eng- 
lishman's house, and drank and sung, and at last got to fight- 
ing and broke the furniture and did some other damage before 
we left. I started to go heme, and it was raining very hard, 
and as I went past a saloon I heard a cry for help. I rushed 
in and saw a colored man with a wound en his head, occasioned 
by a drunken sailor's throwing an oyster-plate at him. When 
I entered, the colored man was in the act of seizing the sailor, 
but quite a number of his companions interposed. I always 
joined the weakest party, and I therefore immediately seized 
the sailor and sung out for the police, who soon came in ; and I 
helped him carry the drunken sailor to the watch-house. His 
companions started after me, being angry, as soon as the police 
left, and I ran down into a* lumber-yard, near the water. They 
searched some time for me, and one man took hold of the stick 
of lumber that I was behind, but as it was quite dark, he did 
not see me. They soon left, and I came out of my hiding-place, 
feeling very uncomfortable, as I was wet through. As I went 
toward home, I passed by the house where my grocery man 
lived, and, as I was wet through, I thought I would get a glass 
of gin, and, going up the steps before the door, I stepped upon 
a verandah, and, as I could hardly see, I walked off and fell 
some twelve feet and struck upon my head upon the ground. 
I was senseless for some time, and when I came to myself the 
rain was beating in my face. I got up, but I felt dreadfully. 
I was wounded badly, I knew, for I could hardly walk. I did 
not know where I was, but going up to a house, I asked where 
Russia street was. I was told .that it was the next street above. 
I went to the next street, and entering it, I came to a house 
that looked like the one that I lived in, and went up and 
knocked. My wife came to the door, but as the wind blew, 
she shaded the lamp so that I could not see her face, and I 
asked, 'Does Mr. Ambler live here?' She was frightened, 
thinking that I was indeed out of my head, and when I went 
in she almost fainted, as my face was bruised badly. She 



144 WIFE'S PATIENCE EXHAUSTED. 

thought at first that it was done in a drunken row, but I told 
her that I had had a fall that occasioned it. In a few days I 
had recovered so that I was enabled to go to work. 

I told my wife, soon after, that I wanted to move, as I never 
had any luck in the house. I found my wife liked the proposal, 
and I immediately went before breakfast and obtained a tene- 
ment, and, borrowing a wheelbarrow, I moved all our things to 
my new quarters upon it, as the tenement was but a short dis- 
tance off. I went to work again in the mill, and kept pretty 
steady at ray work, only taking my glass regularly every morn- 
ing; and strange to say, these regular glasses did not make me 
have an appetite for more, as it did if I took a glass at other 
times. My grocery bill was so large at the end of the month 
that we could make just money enough to pay it. 

One afternoon, as I was out of the mill, I went into the store 
and got some liquor. It made my head dizzy, and I went home 
and laid down upon the bed. My wife, knowing what the 
trouble was, and thinking it was.high time to stop my drinking, 
went down to the grocery store and told the keeper that if he 
sold me another glass of liquor she would inform against him. 
She returned to the house, and soon after I arose, feeling rather 
disagreeably, and took a small flask and went down to the store 
and asked the keeper to fill it. 

4 1 can't sell you any more liquor,' he said, 'for your wife has 
been here and forbidden it.' 

I was enraged upon hearing this, and swore that I was under 
no woman's thumb, and that I would learn her better than to 
meddle with my business. Til tell you what I can do,' said 
the keeper; ' she forbade my selling you a glass of liquor; I 
will sell you a pint, and can charge it upon the store-book as 
pork, and your wife need not know anything about it.' As 
pork was ninepence per pound, my pint of brandy would be 
equal to two pounds of pork. I thought it was an excellent 
way to get over the difficulty; but I am sure I should never 
have thought of this way if the rumseller had not proposed it. 



LONGING TO BREAK MY FETTERS. 145 

It probably was not a new method to him. I obtained the 
brandy, and upon my book it was put down, 'two pounds of 
pork, at twelve and a half cents per pound, twenty-five cents.' 
I went home, feeling somewhat displeased with my wife; but 
as I had a pint of liquor with me, I came to the conclusion not 
to say as much as I intended to in the outset. I said, ' Well, 
wife, things have come to a pretty pass, that I am not allowed 
to take a glass of liquor.' 

'I have stood your drinking as long as I intend to; you have 
made our home unhappy long enough, and now I intend to see 
if I can't stop it,' she said. We had quite a talk, and I thought 
as soon as I drank the pint of liquor that I had in my pocket, 
I would not drink any more. I soon left the room and went 
into the cellar and drank my liquor; and then, hiding the bot- 
tle, I went up-stairs, and told my wife that I should not go out 
that evening. My wife felt well-pleased with my determination, 
and I felt well repaid in staying at home. It was the first 
evening that I had spent at home for some time ; and, although 
I felt happy, yet I missed my companions, and I have no doubt 
but that I was missed in the den where I was accustomed to 
spend my leisure time. I had no idea that my habits had such 
a hold upon me, and it was indeed not without a struggle that 
I stopped at home that evening. Oh! how I wished that I 
could break the chain that bound me, for I felt that I was in 
bondage; but I could not subdue the appetite that was leading 
me, step by step, down to a drunkard's grave. ' Where will 
this end?' I asked myself, as I looked back upon the downward 
road that I had traveled. I did not ask the help of God. I 
did not come to Him who is able to save the poor drunkard, 
and ask for that grace that He alone can give ; but I made res- 
olutions in my own strength, and endeavored, without Divine 
assistance, to break off my evil habits. 

I kept pretty steady at my work a short time ; but, as it was 
coming cold weather, the evenings grew longer, and as I did 
not like to spend long evenings at home, I sought my old com- 
10 



140 CROCKERY GOING FOR RUM. 

panions in the rum-shops. I had only got pork twice at my 
grocer's ; but my bill was so large that I could not pay it at 
the end of the month, and as it was now settlement, the keeper 
of the store said he wanted me to square up, as he intended to 
close up business. I told him that I did not have money enough 
to settle my rum and grocery bill, but that I would pay for my 
groceries, and that he might take a dining-set that I had to 
his store, and sell it and take his pay. Soon after I left my 
crockery ware at the shop he failed, and, meeting me one day 
on the street, he said : 

4 Ambler, you owe me five dollars, and I want it.' 
4 But,' said I, ' the set of ware will more than pay your bill.' 
*I did not realize enough out of it to pay my bill by five 
dollars,' he said. 

I knew that the rumseller was hard upon me, as my ware 
was worth five dollars more than his bill, but I told him that I 
would pay him as soon as I obtained some m*oney. 

As the store where I obtained my groceries was closed up, I 
asked my overseer to direct me to one where no liquor was 
kept. He directed me to a respectable place, where I could 

not obtain liquor. I was invited one evening down to F 's, 

who kept a liquor hole, and as I neared the place I heard the 
sound of a fiddle, and I thought that the company were having 
quite a merry time. I went in and the keeper treated me to a 
drink, and I soon had taken quite a number of glasses, and felt 
pretty well. There was a large, stout-bujdt man there, bragging 
of his exploits; we did not agree very well, and we soon got to 
fighting, and made such a disturbance that the others there 
called for the police, and I had to take my leave, or get into 
the watch-house. I chose the former, and in going down the 
stairs I was seized, but breaking away, I started on a run for 
home, which I soon reached. I fastened my door, expecting 
that some one would be after me, as I knew that my opponent 
had got a pretty severe whipping ; but no one came, and I went 
to bed. I used to have many drunken sprees with F , and 



WIFE LEAVING ME. 147 

many were the quarrels that I have h£d in his rum-shop ; but I 
will forbear relating many incidents of my life, that happened 
about this time, as I am well aware that the pages of this work 
will be extended to a greater length than will be profitable or 
edifying to the reader. 

After working in the Ocean Mill a number of months, I left 
and got work in another mill, and also moved about the same 
time into a room that I obtained about one mile from my work. 
Soon after I moved, I went on a ' spree ' with a number of other 
men ; one of them, I remember, was as good and as free-hearted 
a fellow as I ever saw, and would always help me when I got 
into difficulty ; and although he led a miserable life, he gave me 
good advice, which, if I had followed, would have saved me 
from many troubles and difficulties that I have undergone. We 
all agreed to leave the place, and go to Biddeford. 

When I went home, I told my wife that I intended to leave; 
and the next morning I did so, leaving in the house only a peck 
of potatoes for my wife to live on. When I got to Biddeford, 
I went into the weave-room upon the Pepperell Corporation, and 
obtained a situation. I worked in the mill two or three days, 
when two of the men that agreed to come to Biddeford came 
into the mill where I was working, one of them so exhausted, 
having been without food for some time, and walked from New- 
buryport, that he fainted in the room, and had to be carried 
out. I got work for the two men. As soon as I received some 
money, I sent it to my wife, who immediately came to Bidde- 
ford, leaving her little furniture behind. 1 drank so hard now, 
while in Biddeford, that my wife could not put up with it, and 
she told me that she was determined to leave; and as I could 
not persuade her to stay, I left my work, and went to Portland 
with her, and to the wharf where she took the steamboat for 
St. John. 

I stood again upon the same wharf that I had stood upon 
about four years before, but under what different circumstances! 
I thought that I had escaped to a land of freedom, but I found 



148 DEGRADED AND HOPELESS. 

that I had only got myself into a worse condition than I was 
in when in the army; for there I was under a discipline that 
restrained me to a considerable extent, but here I did as I wished, 
and I thought how fast I had gone down hill the past four years. 
But the boat was about leaving, and, bidding my wife good-by 
and kissing my child, I jumped upon the wharf. Oh! that it 
should come to this, that my wife should have to leave me, be- 
cause I was such a brute that she could not live with me. I 
never had abused her, never struck her; I felt glad that I could 
say that much, but again I thought that there was much that I 
could not say. I had not provided for her as I should, and my 
conduct had brought misery and degradation upon her. These 
thoughts came upon me as I watched the boat fast disappearing 
from my view ; and, wiping away the tears, I went up into the 
city, and, as I had no money, I sold some clothes off my back, 
to get money enough to carry me to Bidcleford again. 

When I arrived at Biddeford, I felt ashamed to go into the 
weave-room, and I went over into Saco, and got a situation up- 
on the York Corporation, but meeting some boon companions, 
I went on a 'spree,' and lost my chance. "When I got sober, I 
determined to leave Biddeford, and selling some extra clothes 
that I had, obtained money enough to carry me to Newburyport. 
When I got to Newburyport, I went to the place where my 
furniture was, and found it all safe, and then I tried to get a 
chance to work in the mill, but was not successful. I now be- 
gan to lead a worse life than ever, and shortly after I came 
back, got into drunken row in the house of an Englishman, and 
had to run for my life. As I had no boarding-house, I walked 
the streets two nights and three days without sleep or food of 
any kind. The next night I went to the friend that I have re- 
ferred to before, who had helped me out of difficulties many 
times before, and he gave me half a dollar, which I spent for 
something to eat and a lodging for the night. The next day I 
tried again to get work in the mill, and was successful. 

I was now boarding with a man named T , who kept a 



4 

SAYING A WOMAN FROM BEING MURDERED. 149 

man and his wife beside myself. The man that boarded with 
me was a great drinker, and would often come home intoxicated. 
He came home one evening intoxicated; he was jealous of his 
wife, and had often threatened her life, and she was always afraid 
of him when he was in drink. She followed him to his bed- 
room, and she there heard him handling his razor and strop, and 
talking about taking life. She hurried down stairs to the keep- 
er of the house, who was an old man, and informed him that 
she was suspicious that her husband meant to take her life. 
The boarding master came and told me that I must take care 
of the fellow. I took the tongs, and stationed myself beside 
the door that he would pass through as he came down stairs. 
I soon heard him coming down, and as he reached the door, he 
saw me prepared to meet him, upon which he halted. I saw 
the razor in his hand, and I said : 

'Bill, what are you going to do? If you do not instantly 
put cshle that razor I will knock you down.'' Seeing that I was 
determined to be as good as my word, he put the razor down 
upon the table, saying, 'We have always got along well, and I 
don't wish to have any quarrel with you.' 

4 Well then,' 1 said, ' if you do not wish to have a quarrel 
with me, you must go up to your bed-room and stay there.' 

He went up to his room, and did not show himself until 
morning, wdien he left the place, without taking his wife. 

I soon commenced drinking again as bad as ever, and one 
Sunday a number of us assembled in a drinking-house, and I 
fell in with a fighting character, and as I was known to box a 
little, I was matched against him for a pint of brandy. The 
one that got the first clip would have to pay for the drinks. 
We stood up, and commenced to strike and parry, anj I soon 
gave him a light blow in the face. I let my hands fall down by 
my side as soon as I gave the blow, and my opponent, taking 
advantage of my exposed condition, struck me a pretty severe 
blow, knocking me down in the corner of the room. I was up- 
on my feet in an instant, and before the company could arrest 



150 GETTING A COLD DUCK. 

me, I gave him a blow that threw him against the wall. Hero 
the company separated us, and the fellow apologized, and paid 
for the liquor. 

After we drank I started to go home, the people were just 
coming from church, and I felt rather ashamed to be seen in 
the condition that I was in, and I ran down upon a wharf that 
was near, and as this was in the winter, jumped upon the ice. 
It was in small cakes, and I sank into the water. I arose, but 
could not get out, as I was entirely surrounded by small cakes 
of ice that would not support me. I cried out for help, and 

F , that kept the rum-shop, with another man, came to my 

rescue. They pulled me out with some difficulty, and after 
recovering some, they invited me to go and have a drink, but I 
would not, and went home, looking, as the saying is, 'like a 
drowned rat.' 

A short time after, a few of us met in F 's rum-shop, and 

for sport, one said that he could tell our fortunes by the bumps 
on our heads, and putting his hands upon the young man's 
head, said, 'You will live many years, if you do not make way 
with yourself. , 

The young fellow said, C I intend to live long enough to pay 
my debts, and then I shall take ray life.' 

This answer, that seemed to be made in good earnest, sent a 
chill over the company, and we soon separated, but I did not 
forget the answer that was made. It seemed to me just as if 
the young man meant what he said, and I thought that if I 
lived, I would see to what an end the man came. 

I had written to my wife a number of times, and had sent 
money for her to come up with, and as I thought she would be 
up soon, I secured a tenement, and had my furniture moved to 
my new quarters, and thought that I would keep bachelor's hall 
until she came. Not long after this, my poor, long-suffering 
wife joined me once more, and did what she could to keep me 
out of the rum-shops. 



STRUCK UNDER CONVICTION. 151 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

I nAVE now reached the period in my history, the moat im- 
portant. Hitherto I relied upon my own strength, but I now 
called upon one who was able and willing to save to the utter- 
most, all that put their trust in him. The inebriate's friend, 
the sinner's Saviour, the only one that is able to sustain us when 
the hour of trial comes, and place our feet upon a sure founda- 
tion. 

About this time, a vestry, where the children of God held 
stated prayer-meetings, was moved to a spot near where I lived, 
and one evening I told my wife that I was going in to see how 
they performed. I had never attended one since I was a boy; 
I therefore took my boy with me and went into the meeting. 
As I entered, a female was engaged in prayer. How strangely 
it thrilled me ! It seemed to bring back my early days, when 
I knelt beside my little bed, with my grandmother at my side, 
and repeated my evening prayer. The prayer seemed to touch 
my heart, and it was with considerable effort that I restrained 
the tears from flowing. I would have given anything to have 
been out of the place, but I could not stir from the spot. When 
the meeting closed, I went home, and my wife asked me how 
I liked the meeting. I told her I did not think much of it, but 
I felt at the same time that I was telling a falsehood. I went 
out of the house and down to a shop where I drank a glass of 
liquor, to drive away the feeling that existed within me, but it 
was of no avail. I could not stop my thoughts, and I felt as 
bad as ever. 

In a day or two after, some one came into the mill and told 
me that a woman that worked for me, and that I had missed 



152 RISING FOE PRATEBS. 

from work, wished to see me, as she was near death. I went 
to see her, hardly believing the sad news, as I saw the woman 
the day before in perfect health, but I found her speechless and 
near death, and I soon went back to my work in the mills, but 
I was restless, and I went out of the mills to the house where 
she was sick, and found her dead, and friends weeping over 
her. Although I had passed through many trying scenes, yet 
I shed tears at that time. 

As I went back to my work, what thoughts rushed through 
my mind! Are you prepared to die? I could not answer this 
question as I wished I could, I was not prepared. I thought 
of the promise I made God when I was sick in the hospital. 
Oh, that I had kept it. I thought that this was a warning to 
me, ' Be ye also ready.' It seemed as if God had spoken to me 
by his providence numerous times. 

That night there was a prayer-meeting again in the vestry, 
and I went with my little boy. As I entered I was interested 
by the hymn that was sung, which they had just commenced as 
-I entered; the first words were these, 'Jesus died on Calvary's 
mountain.' How sweet they sounded to me, and I thought, 
Did Jesus die on Calvary's mountain for me? Did Jesus do 
this for poor sinners? — all this, and I have rebelled against him 
all my life. And as they sung another hymn with the beautiful 
words, ' Children, come horned I thought those words cannot 
apply to me, it is to those alone that love him, and have been 
faithful to him. I felt that I was not a child of God, that I was 
living far from him, therefore those sweet words could not be 
addressed to me. I trembled in my seat. The sweat dropped 
from my brow, and I felt that I should sink to the floor. After 
the hymn was sung, the minister prayed, and others followed, 
and all their prayers seemed to be directed'to me. I could not sit 
upon my seat, I must do something; and with considerable dif- 
ficulty, I pulled myself up by the seat before me, and told them 
that I wished to become a member of their society (as I had 
never been to a prayer-meeting since a boy, I was not acquaint- 



FINDING PEACE WHILE PRATING. 153 

ed with their rules and customs, and was altogether ignorant). 
As I sat down, the people smiled all around me, and some even 
laughed aloud, whilst others seemed to be angry, thinking that 
I was making fim of them, as I had led such a dissipated life. 
Soon after the meeting closed, the minister came along and 
shook me by the hand, and said : ' God bless you.' This was 
something new to me, to have a respectable man shake me by 
the hand, as though I were a brother, and say, l God bless you.' 
I could have withstood the curses of a companion, and could 
have replied to him, but the voice of love, of sympathy, and 
kindness was something new, and I could not withstand it; I 
could not say a word, but burst into tears. I left the place, and 
went home. My wife asked me how I liked the meeting. I re- 
plied that I liked it much. 'But wife,' I continued, ' I want you 
to pray for me, I am no scholar, and I do not know how.' But 
my wife made no reply to my request, and I thought, I will 
pray myself. But then, I said to myself, how can I pray, sinner 
that I am, will it be acceptable? But whilst these thoughts 
rushed through my mind, I remembered the hymn that was sung 
at the prayer-meeting : 

'Just as I am, without one plea, 
But that thy blood was shed for me, 
And that thou bidst me come to thee, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! ' 

I fell upon my knees and confessed my sins to God and asked 
his pardon. My wife could not subdue her tears, but falling 
down beside me upon her knees, we both prayed earnestly and 
humbly to God, and He came down and blessed us there. 

I always thought, before that, that prayer was a senseless, 
cold, heartless ceremony ; but what a mistake I made, for I felt 
my heart softened, and that Jesus that died upon Calvary's hill 
was near me. I felt the peace of God that passcth understand- 
ing whilst I was upon my knees; and, although ignorant as I 
was of spiritual things, the great mystery of salvation and the 
atonement came like a ray of light from heaven, and illumina- 



154 ALL THINGS BECOME NEW. 

ted ray benighted soul, and we both arose justified, I believe, 
in the sight of God. As I arose upon my feet I felt that I was 
a new being. I was loaded with guilt and sin when I bowed 
before the Throne of Grace, but now it was gone, and I felt 
that I could say amen to the passage in the Scripture, 4 For my 
yoke is easy, and my burden is light.' I felt like a child, and, 
as I looked back upon my past life, I thought, ' Oh that I could 
live my life over again, and- that what I know now I had expe- 
rienced in the morning of life ! Oh that I had found Christ 
years ago; what a progress I might have made in life, and 
what comfort and happiness might I have enjoyed!' 

I think of my grandmother now, 
And of the warm tears that she shed, 

And how at night-fall she did bow 
By the side of my lowly Led. 

And with her hands uplifted there, 

Methinks that her form I can see, 
Now kneeling beside the arm-chair, 

As she offered her prayer for me. 

Earnest and long she plead for me, 
And her spirit seemed crushed within, 

That I from the tempter might flee, 
And be kept from the ways of sin. 

Those prayers still ring in my ears, 
Though offered long, long years ago ; 

As I think of them now, the hot tears 
Down my cheeks unbiddingly flow. 

The prayers that my grandmother prayed 

Have found favor with God on high, 
And though long in the earth she's laid, 

Her spirit seems now ever nigh. 

The next day I went to my work; and, as I entered the mill, 
some laughed at me, as they had been told that I spoke in the 
prayer-meeting ; but I paid no attention to the sneers or re- 
marks that were made, as I felt happy for the first time. I went 



TRYING TO BEAD THE BIBLE. 155 

with my wife to the next prayer-meeting, and in the course of 
the evening I arose and said that I was a great sinner, and that 
I desired their prayers for me. Some laughed, whilst a few said 
amen. The meeting closed, and the minister came and shook 
me by the hand ; and, as this was Saturday, asked me to attend 
church next day. I made no reply, as I felt ashamed to tell 
him that I had no clothes to wear. Whilst I was going home, 
the words that were spoken by some one at the meeting, 'Give 
up all far Christ,' seemed to ring in my cars, and I thought, 
'What can I give? I have no clothes, money, or anything;' 
and then again, I thought of the words in the hymn, — 

1 In my hand no price I bring, 
Simply to thy cross I cling.' 

On the Sabbath I remained at home, and tried to read the Bi- 
ble; but I did not succeed very well, and I laid it aside. Sab- 
bath evening I attended the meeting, and told them that I had 
peace and joy in calling upon the Lord, and that I felt that He 
had heard my prayers. No one laughed at me now, as they 
found out that I was in earnest. 

1 attended the prayer-meeting regularly, and soon obtained 
suitable clothes and went to church, and listened to the preach- 
ing of the gospel, and felt strengthened in the Lord. JSly ap- 
petite for liquor continued for some time, but with the help of 
God I was enabled to overcome it. 



156 JOINING THE CHURCH. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



As soon as my eyes were opened and I saw the goodness of 
God, my heart went out for others, and I succeeded in getting 
some of my old companions into the prayer-meeting. My low 
songs that I before had sung in the bar-room, were now changed 
into hymns ; and I purchased me a hymn-book, and my wife 
read the hymns to me until I could repeat them, and I soon 
began to sing, which I found profitable to me, for it kept my 
mind active, and made me forget .the old habits which some- 
what clung to me. 

Oh! if poor drunkards could come to Him who is mighty to 
save, and who alone can lead them safely through this world, 
then would they know in whom to put their trust, and they 
would find Him a high tower to which they could flee in time 
of danger. The poor man who resolves to leave off in his own 
strength, how often he falls by the way! Not so those who 
put their trust in the Lord, for they are strong in Him, and all 
the powers of darkness cannot prevail against them; and when- 
ever trials come, they will find his grace sufficient for. them. 

I continued to walk in the way the Lord directed, and to 
grow in grace; and I was asked by a number of the brethren 
to unite with the church, and after some thought upon the sub- 
ject, my wife and myself were baptized, and united with the 
Christian Church, under the care of Rev. Daniel Pike, May 7, 
1857. 

The minister, when he received us into the church, held up 
the Bible, and told us to take it for our cuidc ; it was a blank 



REVIVAL BREAKING OUT. 157 

book to me, for I could not read its pages, but I felt that I 
would try and explore it, and find the hidden treasures there. 
I studied some three months upon the Bible, and learned so 
that I could read it tolerably well. How proud I felt ! I went 
to the meeting and I told them that' I could read the Bible. 
That evening I heard them pray for a revival, and although I 
had heard the word before, I did not know its meaning, and I 
went home and asked my wife, who explained the meaning of 
the word to me. 

On Christmas evening (I never shall forget it), there was a 
prayer-meeting, and although there were but few there, yet God 
was with them, and the few Christians there prayed earnestly 
for God to revive his work. From that time there was mani- 
fested quite an interest, and soon the candle of the Lord shone 
in our midst, and our little vestry, that we were wont to as- 
semble in, was filled with inquiring sinners. 

We commenced a protracted meeting, which was held every 
evening for some time. There was one young man that attended 
those meetings regularly, and seemed to be interested, but yet 
was not converted; one evening, I remember, the minister's 
mother spoke of the goodness of God to her; she spoke Avith 
a broken voice, and it touched the young man's heart, and he 
arose for prayers. I heard this young man say, after the meet- 
ing, that he thanked God that he ever heard her speak. It 
was the voice of a female engaged in prayer that arrested my 
attention. The tones of a female in prayer seemed to carry 
me back to my childhood days, when my mother blest and 
gave me to God. No doubt the thoughts of the young man 
were carried back to his childhood days, when he heard the 
woman's voice. Perhaps he thought of the time when a kind 
mother blessed him and taught him to say his evening prayers. 

There were near three hundred that went forward for pray- 
ers during those meetings. The revival first commenced in the 
little vestry, but it soon spread over the whole city. 

No Christian that passed through those glorious scenes, when 



158 MY FIRST TRIAL, 

God made his people to sit together in heavenly places in 
Christ Jesus, can ever forget them, but they will be ever fresh 
in his memory, and when the church of Christ is low and in 
darkness, the memory of those scenes will serve to lighten the 
Christian's heart, and cause his faith in Christ to be as strong 
as the prophet of old, who said: 'Although the fig-tree shall 
not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine ; the labor of the 
olive shall fail, and the field shall yield no meat ; the flocks 
shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the 
stall ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of 
my salvation.' 

Many came from the country near the city to onr meetings, 
and found him of whom Moses and the prophets did write. 
Many of the churches of Christ were refreshed by the presence 
of the Lord, and were strengthened in faith and numbers. 
One beautiful and marked feature of the great revival was the 
union of different denominations, and the harmony and oneness 
that existed at that time, no former period ever witnessed. The 
world had heretofore charged the churches with coldness to 
one another, but this barrier being broken down, the world 
could only look on in wonder, and exclaim : ' This is the Lord's 
doings, and is marvellous in our eyes.' 

I continued to attend the public services in the house of God, 
and to be prompt at the social prayer-meetings. 

Soon after I joined the church, Mr. Stone was Sunday-school 
teacher, and he gave for a lesson for us, Exodus 2:11, 12, to 
give our opinion upon ; wife read the story to me. . I thought 
Moses was a good man, and would do no wrong, or it would not 
have been in the Bible. Wife was at work with me in the mill 
at this time. The overseer seemed jealous of me, because I 
would get thirty and forty cuts per week, of cloth, from eighty- 
six looms, more than anybody else. Wife had sixteen cents per 
cut for weaving, and the overseer would complain that some of 
her cuts were not wove well, and he would cut her down ten 
cents a cut. One day I examined her cuts before they went to 



A LITERAL INTERPRETATION". 159 

the trimming-room, and found they were all perfect. When 
they were taken to the trimming-room, as usual, the overseer 
sent back two of her tickets, cutting off twenty cents again of 
my poor wife's earnings. She then went to the overseer and 
asked why it was done, and asked to see the cloth. I was 
watching the old scamp, and I could tell by the motions of his 
mouth that he was abusing her, and he called her a hussy. I 
thought then, is it right for me, an Englishman, who had mar- 
ried an American woman whose grandmother used to feed the 
soldiers of the Revolution, to stand by and see her. abused. I 
had professed religion and wanted to do right. The overseer 
belonged to the same church with me. Our Sabbath-school 
lesson came up, and as everybody said Moses was a prophet and 
a good man, and wife had read to me Exodus 2 : 11, 12, 'And it 
came to pass, when Moses was grown, that he went unto his 
brethren and looked on their burdens; and he espied an Egyp- 
tian smiting a Hebrew, one of his brethren. And he looked 
this way and that way; and when he saw there was no man, he 
slew the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand,' and quick as a flash 
1 said, here goes for this Egyptian. I made a rush for him, and 
told him to take care of himself, I was going to thrash him or 
he should me. I hit him under the ear and knocked him end 
over end, bringing the blood from his ears and nose. When he 
got up he ran for his life, and I after him. Wife got hold of 
me to stop me, and pulled my shirt right up out of my trowsers 
behind, and the girls ran to help her, and I caught one of them 
up and tossed her right slap astride of a loom that was running; 
but she was too thick for filling and the loom stopped, and I 
rushed on after the overseer, and he went running and tumbling 
down through the machine-shop and into the office, and told 
the agent Ambler was crazy, and he fled for dear life and hid. 
Well, I thought if this Egyptian had hid himself it would save 
rue the trouble of killing and hiding him myself. You see I 
was determined to be a Christian after the pattern of Moses, 
and so I felt justified. It is true, I fell a little short, but my in- 
tentions were fully up to the pattern. 



160 CHURCH ADMONITION. 

Well, I was called before the church on a charge of misde- 
meanor. What a jaw-breaking word that was! What could 
it mean ? They told me it meant striking one of my brethren 
of the church. So I got up and told them all about it, and also 
about brother Stone's Sabbath-school lesson, and how wife had 
read the whole story to me, and I would show myself as much 
of a man as Moses was. He pitched into the Egyptian for 
abusing one of the brethren, and was not my wife as near to 
me as Moses' kinsman, and would I show myself a man if I did 
not whip the rascal for abusing a poor hard-working wife ? The 
church was of two minds about it. The most of them favored 
the Hebrew, and so I came off with flying colors, with a slight 
admonition which I suppose meant something like this, viz., 
that I should look this way and that to see if anybody was 
looking, the next time I gave any lessons in Hebrew. 

But, seriously, I tried to behave myself as a Christian, so as 
to merit the approbation of my conscience and good men, and 
the chastisement given the overseer was considered no unchris- 
tian thing, as the following testimony of the agent of the mill 
where it occurred will show : 

Dear Sir, — The bearer, Mr. I. W. Ambler, was formerly an 
employee in the Ocean Steam Mills, and is now devoting his 
time to the work of a city missionary in Biddeford, Me., and is 
desirous of obtaining an education that he may be the better 
qualified for the work in which he is engaged. I hope he will 
meet with that encouragement he deserves, and that he may 
have the sympathy of all those who delight in doing good. 
Respectfully yours, 

E. S. Lesley, Agent Ocean Steam Mills, 

Jtfewburyport) Mass. 

About this time I heard that Ackroid, who had been my 
companion through a portion of ray life, had been killed at Se- 
bastopol. I felt thankful to God that I had escaped from the 



MY HEART DRAWN OUT FOR OTHERS. 161 

army, and that He had shown me the error of my ways, and 
brought me, as I trusted, into his fold. I felt a strong desire 
to see men come into the kingdom of God, and this desire so 
pervaded my mind, that when at my work this was the thought 
that was ever uppermost; and so much did it engage my at- 
tention, that I told my wife that I could not work, and that I 
thought of going to Biddefbrd and inviting my old. companions 
there to come to Christ. I left the mills in the spring of 1859, 
and took the cars for that place. 

I remained in Biddeford some three weeks, and was invited 
by the different evangelical churches to act as missionary in 
that place, and after going back to Newburyport and packing 
my furniture, I returned again with my family, and commenced 
my labors, and here let me thank the members of the different 
churches of Biddeford, who have assisted me in my work by 
their earnest prayers and generous contributions. 

And here let me say that there seemed to be a fitness ob- 
served by these good Christians in myself, in a business point 
of view, viz., that 'it takes a rogue to catch? one ;' for had I not 
been through the mill from Alpha to Omega, and if I did not 
know the ropes I must have been a dull scholar, for what path 
of vice had I not trod? If any live man knew how to pity 
the poor, the ignorant, the despised, and drunken, and knew 
who 'had woe, who had sorrow, who had wounds and bruises 
without number,' that man was I. W. Ambler. And who knew 
better how to sympathize with destitute fatherless and mother- 
less children than myself, and for the salvation and comfort of 
such my heart yearned. 

There was light in my soul I knew, and feeling enough in 
my heart, but oh how I sorrowed to think I had not an educa- 
tional vent to the fullness and richness of God's love that dwelt 
within me, so that by just hoisting the gates, rivers of truth 
might burst forth and overwhelm all around me with such a 
sense of God's love as to make them cry out, 'I yield, I yield, 
by dying love compelled.' Well, here I was, nothing but poor, 
11 



162 I& MY ELEMENT. 

ignorant Sergeant Ambler; what was to be done. Well, I had 
read in the Bible that God could thresh mountains with worms, 
and I said that coat fits me ; I guess the mountains will feel 
cheap when a worm like me knocks them to pieces and wheels 
them into line for the kingdom of God. I had read, too, that 
Jesus, when he wanted to catch men, called some fishermen to 
help him, and they left their nets without stopping to get an 
education, and he made them fishers of men ; and I said, a sol- 
dier is as good material to start with as an old fisherman, and 
my blessed captain, Jesus, has never lost a battle, and has 
called me to charge on the ranks of sin and capture as many 
as I can and compel them to come into the camp of the Lord, — 
and so I will go out into the highways and hedges and get 
some recruits for the army of the Lord. 

The first work, then, was to get quarters where I could enlist, 
instruct, and drill all who would come into the army of Cap- 
tain Jesus. With some help, I got a hall into which to gather 
the children and others. One of the first obstables to be over- 
come was the bare-legged, bare-footed, and bare-headed condi- 
tion of the poor children, rendering them unfit for promiscuous- 
ly assembling ; and it was astonishing, too, how little the sleek, 
fat, easy church-going people knew of the terribly squallid con- 
dition of the poor children in the city. I went to work begging 
old clothes, hats, caps, and shoes, and new cloth when I could 
get it, to make up for them. We formed a circle of ladies for 
charity sewing, which met at my house every week. My wife, 
being a milliner and dressmaker, used to cut the garments, and 
the good ladies made them up, and in a short time we got them 
clothed so neatly that they were not ashamed to go to meeting, 
and our hall filled up so that we had not room enough for all. 

In the morning I preached temperance to them, not in great 
jaw-breaking words to make their eyes stick out and wonder, 
and for two reasons : first, I could not wear Goliath's big coat if 
I wanted to. I remember Deacon Cole came in to see how I 
got on with my big family, as I was making a speech to the 



HOW I WORKED IT. 163 

children. I told the deacon that David once tried it, and it was 
no go ; but when he got to the brook, he took a stone and put 
in his sling and hit old Goliath plump in the forehead and 
brought him down, and in that scrape Goliath got something 
new in his head. And the second and chief reason was, 
that I don't believe in any such way of reaching men's hearts. 
Paul says, c I had rather speak five words with my understand- 
ing that I may teach others also, than ten thousand words in 
an unknown tongue.' So I told them my experience, how I 
used to get drunk and disgraced myself and wife, and went 
hungry and cold, and was despised, and how I wanted to leave 
off, and how rumsellers and old chums would get me to take 
one drink with them, and then down, down, DOWN I went 
into the gutter ; and then how God helped me at last when I 
prayed to Him, and had kept me by His grace out of the clutches 
of rumsellers. Now I was happy, my wife was happy, and my 
child was happy, and we had enough to eat, good clothes, and 
got into good Christian company, and was respected. Drinking 
men would sit and listen, and begin to cry, and come to me when 
I was done, and tell me they were tired of living so, and wanted 
to leave off; and sometimes I would cry with them and for 
them, I could not help it ; and then they would get hold of my 
hand and ask me to pray for them ; and they would sign the 
pledge, get steady work, good clothes for their families, and get 
out to church with them and get converted, and they would be- 
gin to catch men by telling them their experience. So the good 
work went on. Header, this is the way to catch men. When 
a man forgets all about how much or how little he knows, and 
begins to tell others how he was saved just as well as he can 
with a warm heart, the leaven begins to work, and his experi- 
ence, told in this simple way, becomes the wisdom of God and 
the power of God unto the salvation of his hearers. Persecu- 
tors are thrown off their guard in this way, and the gospel-hook 
gets such hold that you can pull them right in. 

In going through the city I saw many sad sights. I remem- 



164 ^ HARD CASE BEACHED. 

ber of finding in a place called Dudley's block four children 
locked in a room with a little bed of straw in the corner, with- 
out chairs or other furniture aside from an old broken stove, 
and a few odds and ends of crockery. I talked with them 
through the window ; they were hungry and nearly as naked as 
when they came into the world, and they told me their mother 
was at work in the mill and would be out at noon, at which 
time I went again and saw the mother, and found the children 
were fatherless, and the poor mother with poor health was drag- 
ging herself back and forth to the mill, when she was hardly 
able to be off her bed, to get bread to put into the mouths of 
her little ones. I went with a friend whom I called to witness 
the scene of wretchedness, and got some chairs, clothing, and 
food, and took to this poor family. The mother and children 
followed me to the door, blessing me until I got out of hearing. 
• Truly this is real gospel ; and will it not be said at last, ' In- 
asmuch as ye have done it unto one of these little ones, ye 
have done it unto me.' It seemed as though devils that others 
could not cast out would be brought to me. One gentleman 
who ran a shoe-shop said he had a good workman who was an 
awfu! drunkard, and if I would make a sober man of him, he 
would believe. Mr. 1ST. pointed him out to me from the other 
workmen, and I went into the workroom and introduced my- 
self to him, and told him some of my history, how hard it was 
for me to leave off drinking, but I had got the victory. It 
seemed to wake him up; but he said it was no use for him to 
try to do anything; his wife had left him, etc., and he was too 
far gone. I told him if he would sign the pledge I could get 
his wife back; that he could \qkxq it off; God would help, and 
his wife would help him. Well, he says, if you will get my 
wife to come back I will sign the pledge. I told him to sign 
first and I would take it to her and show her what he had 
done; she was then boarding in the city. He signed the pledge 
and passed it to me. I told him to put on his coat and come 
along. We went to the place where she stopped and took a 



ALL RIGHT NOW. 165 

seat in the waiting-room, and a servant went for her. When 
she came into the room she seemed much surprised. I arose 

and said, Mrs. , shall I introduce you to Mr. , who 

has signed the pledge. 

She sat right down, hardly able to speak a word, and began 
to feel of her apron, taking hold of it with both her hands, fin- 
gering the hem and nervously passing it through from one side 
to the other. I told her how God would help them both, and 
how happy they would get along, and I was sure her husband 
would keep the pledge, and soon she began to melt, and they 
began their cooing like young doves. I seized my hat and ran 
away, and left them in this happy state. This was a genuine 
reform, and he has kept the pledge from that day to this. My 
friend, Mr. N., now believes. Well, go on Mr. N., many be- 
lieve and have not seen. 



166 BBEAKING UP A BUM-SHOP. 



CHAPTER XXV. 



One more item connected with my missionary work here I 
will relate. A Mr. Higginbottom, whom we got to sign the 
pledge, and was true for some time, was induced by two broth- 
ers, who kept a rum-shop near a church in the city, to go in. 
They at last got him to take one glass, and then all his old ap- 
petite revived and he drank until he got intoxicated, and then 
they kicked him out into the street, and he was taken by the 
police to the station, where, during the night, when he began to 
come to himself and see what he had done, he was so filled 
with remorse that he took his knife and cut his throat. The 
keepers got the knife from him until he sobered off, and the 
terrible gash was sewed up. I was notified and went to the 
station, and the poor fellow gave the knife to me all covered 
with blood (which 1 now keep), and told me all about it. The 
next evening I attended the church near by, and the brethren 
prayed this rum-shop might be removed, and, feeling inspired 
to do so, I jumped up, and told them the rum-shop never 
would be removed until they put their shoulder to the wheel 
and helped to remove it. I think it was the next day when I 
left my house I prayed and said, c O God, help me this once to 
put my shoulder to the wheel and stop this rum-shop.' These 
brothers that kept this rum-hole were both professional fighters, 
and the people seemed afraid to meddle with them. On I went 
to the place, the spirit of the Lord with me strengthening me, 
and I entered. One of the brothers stood behind the counter, 
and the other was out. I went up to him and told him not to 
Btir out of his tracks, if he did I would shake him out of his 



POUNDING TEMPERANCE INTO A EUMSELLEE. 167 

boots. I went behind the counter and smashed the decanters 
and one or two jugs of liquor, and kicked over the counter and 
found a very large jug under the counter full of whisky, which 
I seized and took under my arm, and walked out amidst a crowd 
that had gathered, and pulling out the stopper let it spill along 
the street until it was emptied, the people cheering me as I 
went along. The poor rumseller remaining like one spell-bound 
in his den. I then returned and asked him how much damage 
I must pay. He said nothing. I am glad you have clone it. 
On returning home I fell in with a friend who passed along up 
Alfred street with me, and who should we meet but the other 
brother, who asked me what I meant by spilling his liquor, and 
said he would knock as much out of me. I said you can't do 
that, as I have had none inside of me for three years. He 
struck me in the face and knocked me round, and before I re- 
covered struck me again upon the other cheek. My friend told 
me I must spunk up, or he would get the better of me. I told 
my friend that the good book said, 'When thou art smitten 
upon one cheek turn the other also ; ' but it did not say what I 
must do after that, so here goes. He came upon me again, and 
I knocked him clown, hoping that brief argument would con- 
vince him of his mistake ; but he up and made for me again. 
I gave him a second knock-down argument, and as he lay 
across the side-walk with his head hanging over it, he being a 
very large strong man, I concluded a few inferences drawn from 
these strong points already made, and well laid over his head, 
would bring on a strong conviction of his errors, and change 
him for the better; so I jumped uj:>on him with one knee on his 
breast and one hand hold of his throat, and gave him a few 
1 arousements ' over his head and ears, until lie sued for mercy. 
I told him I would let him up when he promised me solemnly 
he would leave off rum-selling. This he finally concluded to 
do, and took the pledge before God and me and my friend 
never to sell liquor again. 

This was the first and last time that I ever hammered tern- 



168 DON'T ADVISE ALL TO DO SO. 

perance into a rumseller ; and it made me think of Rev. Peter 
Cartwright, that muscular old Methodist saint. A blacksmith 
of great physical strength attacked him one Sunday when on 
his way to his appointment, and said he would hammer him to 
death if he did not stop his d — d proselyting work. The good 
old man knocked him down, and cuffed him until he promised 
to become a Christian, and the minister said over the Lord's 
prayer, and made the blacksmith repeat it after him, until he 
could say it all. In brief, he converted the blacksmith, and he 
joined the Methodist church, and used to laugh afterward about 
Elder Cartwright's pounding the gospel into him. This rum- 
seller did leave the business and became my fast friend, and I 
afterward got him a good place in Portland where he could 
work and earn an honest living. 

I don't advise people to this way of reforming men, but there 
was once a time when the loving Jesus made a scourge of small 
cords and went at the money-changers and drove them out of 
the Temple. 

The good work went on, and my labors were sometimes very 
perplexing, especially when I came to the money matters. I 
found a lot of Mr. AVishwells and Mrs. Hopewells, but the fam- 
ily of Dowells were not so numerous. It is said, 4 Money makes 
the mare go,' and a truer saying never was uttered than that, 
of missions. It took a good deal of cash to carry my mission 
along, and I had a good chance to learn human nature on this 
matter. Some lessons I will give, and if I should hit anybody, 
I hope it will hurt as well as hit, and the poor stingy, souls will 
never get over it until a gospel blister is drawn deep enough to 
let off some of their covetousness. Really it seems to me if 
such professors could see just how they look as others see them, 
they would go into hysterics, like the girl that saw herself the 
first time she ever saw a looking-glass. Her parents were poor, 
and in addition to their poverty had religious objections to look- 
ing-glasses. They moved into a village, and sent the little girl, 
who was ragged, dirty, and hair uncombed, to a neighbors, and 



ONE OR TWO MISSIONARY INCIDENTS. 169 

as she entered the house she came in contact with a mirror, and 
beholding her own face, she screamed and ran home, declaring 
to her parents that she had seen the devil, and when she de- 
scribed him they at once saw the point. If I should hold up a 
glass and any one should say, after they look into it, they had 
seen the devil, I should say at once, no, no, it was only a re- 
flection. 

Here is one funny little thing which was the result of a mis- 
apprehension, and was apologized for immediately on finding 
out the mistake. I had been out beorGfinGr old clothes, and had 
a large bundle on my back given me by good souls around the 
town, and I entered the front yard of a gentleman of large in- 
fluence and means to get more clothing, and I met the proprie- 
tor on the front steps, who immediately challenged me before I 
had time to tell him my errancLand with a terrible growl or- 
dered me to go about my business, supposing me to be a pack- 
peddler, which class of persons he always held in abhorrence. 

His wife told him that he treated the city missionary rather 
rough. He was all taken aback when he learned that, and sent 
for me and made a very gentlemanly apology, and had a good 
laugh at it, so I did not kill him for driving me off. 

One time, when collecting clothing for the children, I called 
at a clothing-store which was run by two very pious men, and 
told them what others had given, and asked them to help a 
little ; they got some small hats that were out of style, and a. 
few yards of cloth and gave me. This they afterwards charged 
to me, and also six dollars which they handed to a friend after- 
wards for the support of what was called the Evening Free 
School, because I was so unfortunate as to be in his company 
at the time. They afterwards sued me for these things and the 
six dollars given to another man, and I was brought before the 
court and judgment found against me. Here I was in a fix 
without a dollar, and the only witness I had to disprove a part 
at least was in the army. I had no great desire to go to jail, but 
then good old Paul had been in prison, and I concluded I could 



170 AFFIDAVIT. 

stand it. . God opened the way for me out of this. The friends 
who felt ashamed for them subscribed the cash on the spot, 
even the judge opened his purse and helped. It was a foul 
blot. ' I will not name the mean men, but I will here introduce 
the affidavit of the man who received the six dollars instead of 
myself. 

Boston Harboe, Mass., Galloup's Island, ) 

Nov. 29th, 1864. ) 
In the winter of 1859, I received six dollars from JVEr. Daniel 
Stimpson, in the city of Biddeford, Maine, as a charity gift for 
a mission school, called the c Evening Free School,' Mr. I. W. 
Ambler standing at my side at the time. Mr. Ambler did not 
borrow the money of the aforesaid D. Stimpson. In proof of 
which I hereby affix my name, George H. Blake. 

Subscribed and sworn to before me, at Galloup's Island, B. H., 
this 29th day of November, 1864. D. T. Coebin, 

Capt. 13th Regt. Vet. Res. Corps, Judge Advocate. 

I would not of course call any names, but I dare not mutilate 
the affidavit, and if anybody should suspect the name of the 
firm from anything contained in that, it would be a most unfor- 
tunate thing. 

During my work in Biddeford I found, at what is called 
Smith's Corner, in a wretched old house, a family consisting of 
a grandmother and two motherless children in a sad condition of 
poverty. The children about six and eight years old, a boy and 
girl. When the mother died, she gave them to the grandmother, 
who had maintained them by going out at washing until the 
poor woman's health had given way. The children had no other 
bed than a pile of old rags in one corner of the room. They 
were nearly naked. The poor old lady told me the sad tale of 
their suffering and poverty. With her consent, I took the two 
children into the street, concluding their nakedness and ema- 
ciated forms would constitute a living epistle so eloquent that 



TEE POOR FAMILY BLESSED. 171 

my lips would hardly need to be opened in their behalf. I met 
several Christian men, and asked for something for them and 
the aged and sick grandmother. I was turned off at first with 
the request to go to one L. B. and state my case, or rather theirs. 
This man was noted for his note-shaving and money-loving na- 
ture, and I suppose these good men thought these little living 
sermons would be vain with him; at any rate it seemed to me 
that they thought this would be a test case. I went to my 
friend L. B. and stated the facts, and with a tear in his eye he 
said, ' Ambler, I believe you,' and drew his wallet and gave me 
five dollars and told me to call on him for more if it was needed; 
and here let me say, I never went to him in vain, while many 
who mouth the heavens with their prayers gave me the cold 
shoulder. 

The first ones after my success with L. B. helped like good 
men, and I soon had them nicely clothed and led them back to 
the good old grandmother, who hardly knew them, their good 
clothes and clean faces so changed them. She cried for joy, and 
blessed me again and again. The poor old lady was not for- 
gotten, and was made comfortable. This poor little girl had 
often tried to get work in the mill, but had been repulsed with 
the remark, c you are too small.' Oh, how it brought back to 
me my own struggles when a child. Her condition was so like 
mine, mother dead and her father a drunkard, and the poor 
child often crying for bread. Here is a bit of poetry that tells 
the loneliness and sorrow of such better than I can describe it: 

Out in the gloomy night, sadly I roam, 
I have no mother dear, no pleasant home; 
Nobody cares for me, no one would cry 
Even if poor little Bessie should die. 
Barefoot and tired, I've wandered all day 
Asking for work, hut I'm too small they say; 
On the damp ground I must now lay my head,— 
'Father's a drunkard, and mother is dead.' 



172 SPILLING THE BUM. 

Cliorus— Mother, oh ! why did you leave me alone, 

With no one to love me, no friends and no home ; 
Dark is the night, and the storm rages wild, 
God pity Bessie, the drunkard's lone child. 

We were so happy till father drank rum, 
Then all our sorrow and trouble begun; 
Mother grew paler, and wept every day, 
Baby and I were too hungry to play. 
Slowly they faded, and one summer's night 
Found their dear faces all silent and white; 
Then with big tears slowly dropping I said : 
1 Father 's a drunkard, and mother is dead.' 

Chorus — 

Oh, if the temperance men only could find 
Poor, wretched father, and talk very kind, — 
If they could stop him from drinking,— why, then 
I should be so very happy again; 
Is it too late? 'men of temperance ' please try, 
Or poor little Bessie may soon starve and die. 
All the clay long I've been begging for bread, 
' Father 's a drunkard, and mother is dead.' 

Chorus — 

Many cases of the kind might be named, but space will not 
permit. But I must not, I will not leave out one other case. 
Soon after the case above named, one night, after I had gone 
to bed, there came a knock on my door. I called to know 
what was wanted. Was told that a woman who was very sick 
and who lived on Emery's lane wanted to see me. I dressed 
and went down, and found in the front room a bar where liquor 
was kept for sale. I was shown into the kitchen, where lay the 
sick woman. She asked me to pray with her. I told her I 
could not pray with that liquor in the house. She said, I shall 
loose my soul if it is not taken away. I asked her if I should 
destroy it. She said, yes. I rolled the cask out into the back- 
yard, and, taking an axe, knocked in the head and let it run. 
An old covy came along, caught up a dish and dipped up what he 
could in the yard and drank it. I then went in and prayed 



MARCHING WITH THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 173 

with the woman, and she found some peace. The next day 
Mr. K. gave me a team, and I took the woman and moved her 

to Mrs. , who took care of her until she got better. I 

then went and told the Rev. Mr. Tenney of her case. He 
called and prayed with her, and she soon came fully into the 
kingdom, and finally joined his church and became a shining 
light. She moved to Lawrence, and soon sent to him some 
money to be used as he thought best. Rev. Mr. T. called on 
friend H. and asked what had better be done with it, and he 
suggested putting it into a corner-stone of a new church as a 
memorial of a convert's first offering to the Redeemer's cause, 
which was done. Brother Tenney, God bless him, never failed 
to go to the call of the poor when I made known any case of 
the kind to him. God blessed me in my work, and a goodly 
number found the pearl of great price. Our Sunday school 
was a joy to us all. We had some of the sweetest little sing- 
ers I ever heard among them, and, during my labors, we gave 
some interesting exhibitions, and I must say I never felt so big 
in my life as I did when inarching at the head of a company of 
200 children to our Sabbath-school exhibition, who had been 
picked up and clothed and trained in the way of righteousness. 
During my work in Biddeford I felt the need of education, 
and I wanted funds to help me to books and schooling, and as 
my life and former history had been made known to some of 
my friends, they suggested the idea of my publishing my biog- 
raphy, it being such a checkered one I might realize a sum from 
that which would secure the funds I needed. I followed their 
advice and found a very good sale for my book, and was get- 
ting together funds for that purpose, when the terrible rebellion 
broke out ; this was nearly a year after I began my missionary 
efforts in Biddeford. 



174 LEAVING THE MISSION FOR TEE DRILL-ROOM. 



CHAPTER XXVI, 



I was in Boston, selling my book, on that memorable 13th 
of April, 1861, when the rebels fired on Fort Sumter. 

Rev. A. L. Stone and the editor of the Boston Journal sug- 
gested to me, that having been a drill-sergeant in the English 
army, it was my duty to leave all book and missionary work, 
and enter at once on the work of instructing our men in mili- 
tary tactics, to prepare them for the battle of freedom and 
union. I abandoned my book sale, putting it in charge of my 
wife, and on the 15th of April, I formed the Young Men's 
Christian Association of Boston into a drill club, and gave 
them their first lesson. 

I believe it was right to teach the disciples how to use the 
sword, although as a means of reform it might not be justified; 
»but there were times in the Saviour's day, after the disciples 
had showed their faith and meekness by turning the other 
cheek when smitten on the one, and taking no purse nor scrip ; 
when they should take their purse if they had one, and arm 
themselves too. Luke 22: 35, 36, — 'And he said unto them, 
when I sent you without purse and scrip and shoes, lacked ye 
anything ? and they said, nothing. Then said he unto them, 
but now he that hath a purse let him take it and likewise his 
scrip ; and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and 
buy one.' It was a waste to have a sword and not know how 
to use it, and it shows that there are times that a disciple is 
better off without a coat than he would be without a sword. 
And this time of rebellion seemed to me to be the time for 
Christian men to buckle on the armor and fight for God and 
humanity. 



TESTIMONIALS. 175 

When I went to Boston to sell my book, I took some letters 
along, so that the good people had something besides my face 
in which to see my character, which papers secured for me the 
ears of the Governor of Massachusetts and others, when I 
opened on them for halls, etc., for training recruits. I will only 
give one or two of them. 

Biddefokd, Dec. 8, 1859. 
This may certify, that Mr. Isaac TV". Ambler has been em- 
ployed during nearly a year, by the Evangelical churches in 
this city as a city missionary, and has sustained an excellent 
character. He has the entire confidence of this Christian com- 
munity. He is very anxious to educate himself for the ministry, 
and for this purpose is now engaged in selling his own biogra- 
phy. This book, I have no doubt, is an authentic account of a 
life full of incident and adventure. I commend Mr. Ambler to 
the kind sympathies of all the friends of Christ. 

Signed, Chas. Packard, 

Pastor of the 2d Cong. Church, 

I most sincerely concur in all the statements of the above 
certificate, and cheerfully commend Brother Ambler to the 
favorable notice of all. H. B. Abbott, 

Pastor of the M. E. Church, Biddeford. 



I hereby concur in the above. 

Pastor of the M. E. Church, Saco. 



P. Jaqtjes, 



Biddefokd, Dec. 8th, 1859. 
Mr. Isaac W. Ambler, for a year past, has devoted his time 
and energies to missionary labor among the poor of this place, 
and especially to soften the hardships of the poor children, col- 
lecting for them with untiring diligence, and dispensing with 
good judgment clothing, so as to bring them in classes into the 



176 THE USE OF THEM. 

Sunday school, and to enable them to go to the public schools 
decently clad. Mr. Ambler is a conscientious, good man, I 
verily believe, self-sacrificing and charitable in the best sense of* 
the word. His life has been somewhat adventurous, so that inV 
order to help himself to a home he has caused a book of narra- 
tive of his life to be published, which I hope will afijrd him 
some profit. Augustine Haines, 

Agent of the Laconia Mills. 

Being a stranger in Boston, or nearly so, such letters at once 
gave me a hearing, and also secured for me the confidence of 
the people. 

F. B. Wentworth (God bless his big heart !) bought me a fall 
military suit and gave jt to me, so I could put on military airs 
tt once. It was of great use in stirring up young Americn, and 
oH America too; as I found the old boys paying as much de- 
ference to my epaulettes as the younger ones. Thus accoutred, 
I went upon the street. Our flags were flying from every part 
of the city, and upon State street there was great excitement, 
and everybody was out talking over the state of things. Notice 
was given out that Fletcher Webster, the son of the great Dan- 
iel Webster, was going to speak from the balcony of the old 
State-house. This was on Sunday, and the crowd surged in 
that direction. Some of the boys that I had been drilling when 
they saw me in my soldier rig, made a rush for me, and took me 
right up and carried me on their shoulders to the State-house, 
and walked up the steps with me on their shoulders on to the 
balcony, amid the shouts and cheers of the multitudes. 

This was pretty good for Ambler, I thought, for who was 
poor me to be lionized in such a way, ignorant as I was, never 
having been to school a day in my life. It almost knocked the 
wind out of my sails to think of it, of speaking to such a crowd. 
When Webster got through, they sung out for Sergeant Am- 
bler. Of one thing I was sure, viz., that if I did not understand 
how to speak grammatically, I did understand military matters 




Speech from Old State-hou: 



SPEECH AT THE STATE-HOUSE. 177 

as well as the best of them, and this put me at ease, and at the 
same time I felt that God would help me. I took for my sub- 
ject Christian Heroism, and the duties of the hour. I told 
them, although I was an Englishman by birth, I was then an 
American by adoption. That I had suffered oppression in my 
fatherland by those invested with a little power, who exercised 
it to the very letter. In this land of freedom, your forefathers 
fought for that independence of which you and I now boast. 
The Duke of Wellington was my commander-in-chief in 1842, 
when I joined the English army. The iron duke was the hero 
of a hundred battles. Napoleon Bonaparte was the king of 
warriors in the European world ; but these two illustrious gen- 
erals dwindle into insignificance when compared with your 
illustrious Washington. They fought for despotism, he for lib- 
erty and equality for all men. I then pointed to the flag above 
us, and told them I had fought for the union-jack, but now I 
would fight for the stars and stripes so long as God would give 
strength to my good right arm. Your country is my country, 
where you go I will go, as you are ready to pour out your life- 
blood for this union, undivided, now and forever, so am I ready 
to pour out my blood to keep that good old flag from trailing 
in the dust ; and to preserve this glorious union, this best form 
of government the world ever saw, where every man is a king, 
and a king is but a man. At this point I did not know but 
they would all run wild. They shouted and cheered, and threw 
their hats into the air as if they never cared whether they ever 
had another hat or not. There was something in the very air 
on the occasion, in everything about us, that would almost 
make a dumb man eloquent. I will not say that I was elo- 
quent, and I am sure I would not say I was not, for I have 
some religious objections to lying; but one thing is sure, the 
steam was up ; the old American war-horse snuffed the battle, 
and not very far off. 

But enough as to my speech. It pained some of my friends 
to hear of my speaking to a crowd upon the perils and duties 
12 



178 BUSHING MATTERS IN THE DRILL. 

of the hour on the Sabbath^ and Major Sturgis wrote me a 
letter expressing his regret at this step; he also thought I had 
better not get outsiders into the drill-room with the Young 
Men's Christian Association, it was mixing things up too much. 
Well, I was sorry to offend such a good man. I told him it 
would not do. We had a big job on our hands, and we must 
have all the boys we could reach inside and out to finish it np. 
He afterwards saw and acknowledged I was right, and was 
an unflinching, faithful friend, and often felt for me clear down 
into his breeches pocket. 

At this time the numbers multiplied so who wanted to learn 
the drill, that I had not room for them at the Young Men's 
Christian rooms, and I went to see the governor for accommo- 
dations. He told me to go to the postmaster, and tell him to 
let me have the hall over the post-office, which I secured ; and 
in the mean time, several other gentlemen got another hall on 
Washington street, and Deacon Hobert furnished another, so 
the ball was rolling good. 

In these rooms I worked from five a. m. until ten p. m., drill- 
ing the different squads of men. Some of the rooms were for 
officers, and some for privates. I was so much on my feet, drill- 
ing men in the broad-sword and bayonet exercise and march- 
ing, that my feet became swollen so I could not put on my 
boots, and often worked in my stocking-feet. 

At this time, Mr. Dwight came to me, and wanted me to aid 
his son (who was then stationed at Staten Island) to raise three 
hundred men to fill up his regiment. I went to work with all 
the energy I possessed to raise the men. I thought I would 
try a little of the old style to rope in the old country boys; so I 
got an Irishman and put a military suit on him, and put ribbons 
on his hat, and furnished him with a fifer and drummer, and the 
trio went down to Haymarket square, and through among the 
shipping offices, and the boats where they would be likely to 
find the boys, and in this way we soon got up a regular military 
fever, and in less than a week I got the three hundred men to 



LETTERS OF COMMENDATION. 179 

fill up Colonel Dwight's regiment. Dwight was lieutenant-colo- 
nel at the time, and on the receipt of this addition, making a 
full compliment of men for his regiment, he was made colonel. 
Captain Bugbee, in this regiment, whom I had aided in filling 
his company, expressed his gratitude for my services in the fol- 
lowing letter. 

Co. H., 1st Regt., > 

Camp Scott, June 29th, 1861. } 
Brother Ambler: 

Dear sir, — I take a spare moment to thank you for your kind- 
ness and the services you rendered me. We are here and at 
home. Well received and kindly treated. Colonel Dwight is 
a fine man, a good oflicer, and well beloved by all, and we are 
all happy we are here ; my company musters ninety-two men, 
and I expect to have one hundred inside of the next twenty- 
four hours. 

Edlesson, who was sergeant but now second lieutenant, wishes 
you to have those instructions in the sword written off for him. 
With friendship, 

Capt. W. H. Bugbee. 

The captain had good reason to feel obliged, for I had drilled 
him and also his company, either in person or by proxy. Per- 
haps I ought to explain what I mean. I had so many men and 
officers under instruction, that I would give a sergeant a lesson 
and send him to the company to give the same lesson. This is 
what I mean by drilling by proxy. 

I furnished my own swords and other drill articles with the 
exception of muskets, and those I obtained by such letters as 
the following: 

Boston, May 2, 1861. 
To Adjutant-general Schouler: 

Dear Sir, — I have known Mr. I. W. Ambler for some time, 
and have all confidence in his integrity. Any arms the depart- 



180 BRITISH DRILL CLUBS. 

ment may commit to his care, I have no doubt will be both 

properly cared for and accounted for. 

Very truly, Henry Hoyt, 

William R Stacy, 
Chas. H. Parker, 
Chas. W. Babcock. 

I got up a company of Englishmen who afterwards went to 
the front, and made many a rebel bite the dust. These fellows 
were true as steel and were well drilled, and no Yankee was 
more earnest and true. Some of the old British formality still 
clung to them, as the reader may see by the note which they 
usually sent me on drill nights, which I here insert. 

Boston, June 11, 1861. 
I. W. Ambler, Esq. 

Sir, — The members of the Boston British Drill Club are to 
meet to-night in Revere Hall, Bowdoin square, at eight o'clock 
precisely. Your attendance is earnestly requested, therefore 
please fail not. By order, 

Henry F. Magee, Clerk pro tern. 

P. S. Any friends you may know interested in the cause in- 
vite them to meet with us and enroll their names, as we shall 
be happy to have an augmentation to our numbers. 

These men were converts to the good cause made by my big 
speech from the balcony of the State-house on that memorable 
Sunday. I might as well call it a big one, for it was about a 
big thing, if the rhetorical flourishes were lacking, and it bore 
fruit that the rebs found rather hard to take. 

I drilled Colonel Webster and some of his officers of the 4th 
Mass. Vol., who soon left for the seat of war. 

For several months I toiled in the old Granite State, giving 
myself hardly time for food and sleep. The papers had con- 
siderable to say about my work at this time. Here is a little 
sample from the Boston Jbwmal of June 5, 1861 : 



PAPER SQUIBS. 181 

Boston and Vicinity, June 5, 1861. 

Sergeant Ambler and his Labors. — In justice to true 
merit we feel called upon to say that no one in our city has 
done, or is doing, more to inculcate a military sentiment among 
our people than our patriotic fellow citizen, Mr. Ambler. Leav- 
ing the pulpit for the drill-room, he has given his whole lime, 
without remuneration, to the instruction of recruits; laboring 
incessantly for their benefit and for the cause, regardless alike 
of fatigue and personal comfort. 

Mr. Ambler is an accomplished military tactician, having 
seen long service, and is equally at home with the musket, bay- 
onet, or broadsword ; and to him is due not a little of the skill 
of some of the officers of the Massachusetts Volunteer Militia 
in the use of the sword. To thorough experience in all branch- 
es of the military, he unites gentlemanly deportment and a 
felicitous manner of conveying his knowledge to others. His 
positions are classic and faultless, which, with his agility, gives 
him a wide range of personal defense. 

He now has a large class receiving daily instructions in the 
broadsword exercise, and although no one scholar has taken 
more than six lessons, yet a remarkable progress has been made, 
and the proficiency manifested fully attests the ability of Mr. 
Ambler. 

The highest terms of praise are bestowed by his pupils, who 
would take great pleasure in seeing him at the head of a mili- 
tary school upon a much larger scale, under the patronage of 
the State, which is due not less to the personal sacrifices he has 
made for the cause than to the acknowledged ability which he 
brings to the business. 

On reading such squibs, the people in Maine began to feel as 
though they had some claims that a c white man Avas bound to 
respect,' as I was a resident of that State, and letters came 
pouring in upon me, to go down and help them whet up things 
and show them * how fields were won.' 



182 GOING TO GAMP PBEBLE. 



CHAPTER XXVII, 



The Sixth Maine were in camp at Camp Preble, and the fol- 
lowing officers sent me an invitation to come and drill them in 
the broadsword and bayonet exercise, and the word of com- 
mand : Col. Hiram Burnham, Capt. M. W. Brown, Capt. James 
Snowman, Capt. Benjamin F. Harris, Maj. Frank Pierce, Capt. 
Charles Day, Lieut. B. J. Buck, Lieut. W. Buck, Capt. TV. H. 
Stanchfield, Adj. John D. McFarland, Lieut. Otis TV. Kent, 
Lieut. George P. French, Lieut. H. B. S trout, Lieut. John M. 
Lincoln, Lieut. George Roberts, Lieut. TV. P. Ward well, Lieut. 
G. C. Poor. 

On the 9th of July, I went to Camp Preble, and commenced 
my labors drilling the whole regiment. The officers insisted 
upon my going to the front with them, assuring me that I should 
receive the same pay and fare that they received from govern- 
ment. I decided to go with the regiment and instruct them, 
and share with them the fortunes of war. I intended to have 
enlisted and be mustered in with the rest of them. I got a pass 
from the colonel to spend a couple of days with my family at 
Bicldeford, and, while at home, orders came from Washington to 
march at once, and the regiment was mustered in before! reached 
the camp, which accounts for my name not appearing on the 
muster-roll as an enlisted soldier, which afterwards proved most 
unfortunate for me, as will appear hereafter. On getting news 
that orders had come to go to the front, I hastened back to 
camp, accompanied by my good wife and little boy. As the 
regiment had no drum-major, I assumed the position, and we 
broke camp, and came into Portland, my wife and boy trudging 
along by my side. 



TEE PARTING SCENE AT THE DEPOT. 183 

When coming over Bramhall hill we met an old man, who 
gave me the first meal of victuals after my escape from the Eng- 
lish army into the States. The poor old fellow threw up his 
hands and cried right out, and said, 'Sergeant Ambler, you are 
gone, you are gone, you'll never come back,' and this set wife 
and boy to crying, and I confess to a rising in my throat that 
made me a little uneasy; but I hushed them as well as I could, 
and told them God would take care of me wherever I went; 
but it was pretty hard. Civilians often have witnessed these 
partings; but they cannot know anything of the emotions that 
heave the heart of the husband and father, when he is leaving 
wife and children for the field of carnage. I had seen such 
parting scenes in the old world ; but when I sailed away from 
old England for the Mediterranean, I was a poor orphan, caring 
for nobody and nobody cared for me, and I could not realize 
anything of the anguish that wrings the husband and father's 
heart until now. I was trying to comfort wife, but I needed 
ten men to keep the lumps down in my throat. It is said, mis- 
ery loves company ; but I don't believe it, for there were hun- 
dreds of friends fallowing their dear ones to the depot, and it 
only made me feel worse to see so many crying around us. Lit- 
tle did we know who the angel of death was fluttering over, 
and who were shaking hands for the last time, to meet no more 
until Gabriel's trumpet calls us to judgment. The command 
came, 'All aboard,' an( l the Sixth Maine Volunteers rolled out 
of the depot for the seat of war, while the women and children 
were throwing kisses after us, and waving good-by with their 
handkerchiefs. Nothing of interest occurred until we arrived 
in New York, where we halted without leaving: the steamer. 
A brief speech was made, and a beautiful silk banner was pre- 
sented by the sons of Maine. Colonel Knowles responded. We 
then proceeded to Philadelphia, where a splendid collation 
awaited us, of which the boys partook, with many a hearty 
*God bless the Quaker city.' 

We took the cars at Philadelphia, and proceeded by the way 



184 POISONING AT HAVBE-DE-GRACE. 

of Havre-de-grace, where we were delayed several hours. At 
this place, a baker attenrpted to poison us by putting ground 
glass in the cakes and pies which he sold us. None of the men 
died from its effects, although some of them were severely in- 
jured. I had swallowed several mouth-fulls before I detected 
it by crunching it with my teeth. I spit it into my hand, and 
rubbed it in my fingers, and cut them with the fine particles of 
glass, and could see them in my hand. I showed it to Captain 
Snowman, who ran out and gave the alarm. One of the boys, 
in attempting to get past the guard, to get at the baker, caught 
his coat-sleeve on the cock of the gun, and the piece went off 
and shot him just below the left nipple. I took him into a 
house and got him into .a bed. He told me what he wanted 
said to his friends, and how he died. I said to him, you are 
not going to die. You are not in half so much danger now as 
we are, who have been eating glass; but I was mistaken. We 
stripped him and found the ball had passed through him, and 
he died in a few minutes. The boys were desperate. They 
found the bake-shop and the machine that he ground the glass 
with. They captured the rebel scamp and he got away, and 
while pursued, one of the regulars shot him through the back 
and killed him on the spot. The whole regiment loaded up to 
be ready for any event. We soon were rolling on for Baltimore. 
We marched through that rebel city in full expectation that 
blood would run before we got through. The colonel ordered 
me to the center of the regiment, to help protect the flag as it 
was borne aloft. The plug-uglies were on the sides of the 
street with bowie-knives, some of them drawn ; but the rascals 
saw by the white of our eyes that we meant business, and no 
violence was offered. We reached Washington late at night, 
July 19th, and no preparations had been made to 'fodder the 
flock,' and our haversacks were troubled with the contribution- 
box disease, viz., a terrible emptiness. We were quartered ia 
an old hall where we laid down our weary limbs on the soft 
side of a hard floor, where we spent a sleepless night with 



SCENES CONNECTED WITH BULL BUN. 185 

empty stomachs. The next morning, after a lunch of bread 
anil coffee, we took up our line of march for Chain bridge. For 
some reason, some of our baggage-wagons did not arrive, so 
that when we got there, about half of our men had to sleep on 
the ground or under the bushes, anywhere they could get. 

In the morning, we were awakened by the roar of cannon 
in the direction of Mannasas Junction and Bull Run. All 
through the day, heavy cannonading was going on. At night 
a courier arrived with dispatches, telling us that our troops had 
been routed, and the rebels were in full pursuit in the direction 
of our camp. This made the boys' eyes stick out, for it looked 
like business. Immediately company H. were hurried across 
the Potomac to go on picket-duty. The next morning the 
straggling hosts began to arrive. In no part of the world did I 
ever see such a sight. Some of them were black as negroes, 
smutty, and stained with blackberries upon which the poor fel- 
lows had fed coming through the woods. Some with every bit 
of their shirts above their breeches entirely torn off, or hanging 
in shreds about them. Some old soldiers that had fought at 
Sevastopol, were crying with rage and sorrow like little chil- 
dren, and I cried myself on meeting them in this terrible plight, 
and could not help it. Oh, it was a sad day for the Union army, 
and the country. I picked up two Zouaves, and helped them 
into camp, who had been wounded. One had a terrible wound 
in the thigh from a bayonet, and the other with a ball in the leg. 
I saw our surgeon extract the ball, and also a j^iece of his pants 
that had been carried into the flesh with it. Others were re- 
treating towards Washington. The roads were blockaded with 
baggage wagons, ambulances, artillery, and all the paraphernalia 
of war. One very tall man from the same place that I came 
from, run his poor horse until he came to the blockade, and 
leaped off, and with every particular hair standing on end, 
rushed over broken carts, dying horses, and every incumbrance, 
and reached the capital long before his horse could arrive, as I 
was told. The scene of that disaster beggars all description, and 



186 THROWING THE PLANK OFF CHAIN BRIDGE. 

God grant my eyes may never witness another such. The van- 
ity of some of our shoulder-strapped gentry met a terrible re- 
buff, and, in truth, I must say that the attempt of some of them 
to lay that Bull Run defeat on the men, showed an unfairness 
not warranted by facts. For some of these raw officers showed 
about as much fitness to command armies as a toad does for the 
duties of a plenipotentiary. Another, and painful illustration 
of the need of such instruction as I had been so long endeavor- 
ing to impart without remuneration, with the single hope of ren- 
dering some aid to my adopted country in her time of need. 

The Sixth Maine was the only regiment at this time at Chain 
bridge, and our duty was to hold it and prevent the victorious 
rebels from entering Washington in this direction. "We had a 
whole company thrown across the Potomac, several miles out 
on picket, to give notice of the approach of the enemy. Cap- 
tain Mott's battery was stationed on the bluff, commanding the 
bridge, so as to rake the enemy on their approach. I suggested 
to Captain Mott that a cavalry, dashing at full speed, might 
effect a crossing, and we had better take up every other plank 
on the bridge, and this would not hinder our troops from using 
it, and we could mow down all the rebs they could crowd on to 
it on foot, with our grape and canister. Colonel Burnham and 
Captain Mott ordered every other plank taken up and thrown 
into the Potomac, which was done by our men in double-quick. 
That relieved us from any fear from the enemy's cavalry. 
There was a large brick building at the end of the bridge, on 
the Virginia side, that might serve as a cover for the rebels on 
their approach, to which we paid our compliments. The bat- 
tery, with solid shot and shell, plowed through the walls, tear- 
ing away the brick and stone, until it came down with a crash. 
We remained in possession of the bridge for some three weeks 
before we crossed in force into Virginia. About every night 
the alarm was* sounded, and these shrill blasts of the bugle, 
ringing out on the night-air, would bring us to our feet in a 



SPORT WITH THE CHAPLAIN. 187 

trice ; but the enemy did not appear in force. The alarms were 
occasioned by the firing of some rebel scouts at some of our 
pickets. This business was much harder for me than if we had 
been in battle. Our officers and men were feverish with anxie- 
ty to get on in their drill, and I made long days drilling them 
in the broadsword and bayonet exercisej which every military 
man understands is the hardest work done. Part of the time 
on picket in addition to this, and then sleeping on the ground 
after such exercise through the day, stiffened me up, and 
brought me a good deal under the weather. We were hard up 
for grub, and suffered a good deal from the diarrhoea, brought 
on by eating such green stuff as we could pick up in the fields, 
small fruits, crab apples, etc. One Sunday our good chaplain 
preached us a very touching sermon, telling us that the Sixth 
Maine were the greatest cursers, the greatest swearers, and the 
greatest thieves on God's footstool. During the following week 
I went to him and told him I was starving hungry, and I must 
have some bread if I had to steal it ; and I told him I would 
get some bread, if he would get some meat, and we would have 
one good meal. He said he would do it. I went to an old 
Dutch woman's, and told her I wanted bread ; she said she had 
none. I told her I didn't believe it, and if she would not give 
it to me I would take it; and she gave me two Johnny cakes, 
and I trotted back to camp, and found the chaplain had got five 
or six pounds of beef. I asked him how he got it, and he said 
it was none of my business where he got it. I told him that if 
God spared my life to get back to the State of Maine, I would 
tell them how the reverend gentleman stole beef down in Vir- 
ginia. 

He said, 'Ambler, if you do I will horsewhip you.' You had 
better believe, dear reader, that meat and bread tasted good, if 
the minister did steal it. About eight years after this, I met 
the parson in Portland, and sung out to him, 'there goes the 
chaplain that stole the beef in Virginia,' and he jumped right 
out of his wagon and horse- whipped me up Exchange street, and 



188 THE SCB1PTUBAL EXCUSE. 

that squared our accounts. We have both kept our word like 
good honest men that we are. 

I hope nobody will think either of us the worse for this, for 
we did it on the same principle that the disciples did when 
they 'began to pluck the ears of corn and to eat.' When the 
Pharisees saw it, they said 'Behold thy disciples do that which 
is not lawful to do on the Sabbath day.' The Master said unto 
them, 'Have ye not read what David did when he was a hun- 
gered, and they that were with him. How he entered into the 
house of God, and did eat the shew-bread which was not law- 
ful for him to eat, neither for those which were with him? Or 
have ye not read in the law, how that on the Sabbath days the 
priests in the temple profane the Sabbath and are blameless?' 

There, brother T , have I not been pretty good to you, after 

my horse-whipping, to make such a strong apology for your 
hooking the beef? 

But to return to the thread of our discourse, as the preach- 
ers say ; notwithstanding my hard work, I was on the look-out 
for everything that looked suspicious, and in reconnoitering down 
the river one day, I discovered some works thrown up by the 
rebels preparatory for mounting a battery during the night, 
about one mile below Chain bridge, on the Virginia side on a 
high bluff. I immediately notified Colonel Burnham, who sent 
a squad of men over the bridge to look after them. The rebels 
fled on the approach of our men. One Sunday Lieutenant Fur- 
long and myself started for Arlington, on the Virginia side, to 
see them operate the balloons, while reconnoitering with them. 
As we were trudging along through a piece of woods, I stopped 
to light my pipe, and the lieutenant got on a little distance 
ahead, when a small squad of rebels rushed upon him, and would 
have captured him if it had not been for his wonderful presence 
of mind. He sung out at the top of his voice, ' Come on, boys, 
here they are,' and they took to their heels for dear life. I ran 
to see what was to pay, and they were just disappearing over 
the hill. That was what I called a good Yankee trick. In a 



SKIRMISH WITH THE ENEMY. 189 

day or two after this, General McLellan came up to reconnoiter, 
and gave his horse into my charge, and went over Chain bridge 
on foot to take a view of things, and when he came back, he 
called for three hundred men to go into Virginia on a scout. I 
asked the general if I could go with them. He said,' certainly? 
and I gave the horse again into his charge to go on the scout. 
He made us a neat speech at the bridge, and, giving him three 
rousing cheers, we started. We had been perhaps a half an 
hour in Virginia, when the boys commenced firing ; but what 
the brave fellows saw to shoot I never knew, for I did not see 
a reb. Nothing resulted from this tramp, and we returned to 
camp. 

A few days after this, our pickets found the rebels throwing 
up some works near a place called Langly, about five miles from 
Chain bridge. Lieutenant Fitzgerald, accompanied by Captain 
Mott's battery, marched at once upon them, and a brisk skir- 
mish commenced. Captain Mott opened ui:>on them with some 
of his heavy guns. The rebels returned the fire from some of 
their pieces which they had got in position ; but our fire was 
too hot for them, and they commenced their retreat, leaving 
several of their dead on the field. Some of our men were 
wounded, but none of them killed. As soon as we had routed 
them effectually, and sent them skedaddling up the Lewinsville 
road, orders were given to limber up and return to the other 
side of the Potomac. I felt considerable interest in the success 
of Mott's battery, as I had something to do with drilling a por- 
tion of them, and one of the gunners (named Charlie Lynch) 
was an Englishman who had been in my company in the English 
army, and so I asked the lieuterttant how Charlie behaved un- 
der fire. 'Oh,' said he, 'he fought like a tiger.' 

Very soon after this, General McLellan sent orders not to fire 
a gun, as preparations were going on for the whole army to 
move info Virginia, and when everything was in readiness for 
the Union army to march, the firing of a cannon was to be the 
signal. 

o 



190 THE FIRST PRAYER-MEETING. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

At this point, while the reader is waiting for our regiment Ho 
move on the enemy's works,' I will give some of the religious 
history of the Sixth Maine Volunteers while at Chain bridge. 
As a Christian, I felt as though we ought to find enough among 
us, who meant to serve the Lord, to make up a goodly number 
for a prayer-meeting, and so about the fourth day after we ar- 
rived at Chain bridge, I proposed to hold a prayer-meeting in 
the evening, to begin at early candle-lighting; and went through 
the streets of the camp and notified them that I would hold a 
prayer-meeting under a big elm tree within the lines. When 
the evening came, I took my Bible and went out to the old 
tree, and out of about eleven hundred men, five or six only 
came to the prayer-meeting. I told brother Strout, one of the 
privates present, that we had enough to claim the blessing. I 
stuck a bayonet into an old limb which was broken off the side 
of the tree, and put a candle in the socket, by the light of which 
I read a portion of God's word, and then called on good broth- 
er S to pray, and I tried to pray also. God blessed us both, 

and I tried to talk to them. !N~o others took any part this first 
night. I gave notice that we would have a meeting at the 
same place the next night, and soon as I got through with the 
drill I would go throughout the camp and give notice of it. 
So as soon as I dismissed the men from the drill the next after- 
noon, I went all round and notified them, and to make sure of 
a congregation, I told them if they did not come to the prayer- 
meeting I would not drill them. I think I had over four hun- 
dred the next night. We used the old bayonet again for a can- 
dlestick, and I read God's word, and the Holy Ghost fell on us, 



SECOND MEETING BETTER STILL. 191 

and it was one of the best prayer-meetings I ever was in. Some 
backsliders confessed, and a number got up and asked for pray- 
ers. One backslider told us he had praying parents down on 
the old Penobscot river; that he had gone against them and hurt 
their feelings often; that he had once known the way and wick- 
edly backslidden, and wanted us to pray for him. He said, 'we 
are now facing the rebels and can almost see them eye to eye, 
and if he was shot down, he wanted to be prepared to meet his 
God.' And he came out happy; he said he never was so happy 
in his life. He was a great help to the meetings, and proved 
faithful during my stay with the regiment. Oh, it was a glori- 
ous meeting; they cried and shouted for joy. Yes, you dear, 
easy, old Christian, in your carpeted church, with your great 
organ, and splendid choir, and big sermon, you never had a 
better mee'ting, with all your rich surroundings, than we did 
with the green earth for our floor, and the starry canopy of 
heaven over our heads for a roof, and the dim old candle shed- 
ding its faint glimmer around. There was an awfulness, a 
grandeur, a wonderful glory that fell on us in melting power, 
producing such a nearness to God as many had never before 
known. These were the first prayer-meetings held in the army, 
and I had rather have the honor of instituting such a work than 
all the honors of wealth and ease. The next night I gave the 
same notice after drill, and our numbers increased, and the pow- 
er of God was with us. On the fourth evening, our chaplain 
came in with us, or rather up to the tree with us, and God spoke 
to us under the bush, if not out of it, and the chaplain got up 
and said, 'the Spirit of God is with you;' and I said, 'amen,' and 
brother Strout shouted 'hallelujah' at the top of his voice, and 
our chaplain poured out the truth among us with greater power 
than I ever heard him before. It was easy to speak. The wa- 
ters were troubled and hearts were in the mood to hear, and so 
hungry for this manna from heaven that they seemed to eat 
every word, as though they felt it was God's bread fresh from 
heaven. And now, so much of the Holy Ghost was with us, 



192 -4 HABD SIGHT. 

that our good chaplain could discount considerable from the 
statements he made about us the first Sunday here. 

He began to see there was amongst us some wheat as well as 
chaff, and that we were not all * the greatest curses and thieves 
on God's footstool,' and of those who were a little off the track 
then, there was hope if the good work went on. Our meetings 
continued to increase in numbers and interest, until a large 
part of the regiment that was not on picket duty would be pres- 
ent, and quite a number were converted, and a good number of 
backsliders were reclaimed. I was gloriously rewarded for the 
extra efforts I had made. I often drilled eight companies in 
the bayonet and skirmish exercise in a day, besides twenty offi- 
cers, giving them each separate lessons in the broadsword exer- 
cises, and then, after attending prayer-meetings, sometimes 
would go out on picket with the boys to spend the night; so 
you will see, my reader, that I eat no idle bread. 

There was one little incident that occurred while here that 
touched me. One poor fellow was drowned in the canal, and 
was brought up and laid close to my tent, all covered with mud, 
and the flies were eating out his eyes and in his ears. I told the 
nurse (a good lady from Boston) that I knew he was a poor for- 
eigner, and I was afraid, if I should die or be killed, that that 
was the way I might be left in the filth, with the flies and mag- 
gots eating my poor body. She said, ' no, drill-master, I will 
see to it myself,' and she went and washed the poor fellow all 
up clean, and then put our new silk flag over him. I looked on 
him after this good Samaritan had laid, him out, with the flag 
lying on his manly breast, and I said, c it is enough, I am con- 
tent.' 

Coming back now to the movements of the regiment into 
Virginia, I will begin with the visit of President Lincoln to our 
camp, accompanied by Secretary Chase and Chaifes Sumner. 
I was drilling some of the officers in the broadsword exercise 
when the president arrived, who seemed to take great interest 
in it, and clapped me on the shoulder, and laughed and said, 



CATCHING THE SPY. 193 

'that is very well clone, very well done.' After the president 
had gone to see Captain Mott's battery, Lieutenant Furlong 
stepped up to me and said, * that compliment from the president 
is a feather in your cap, drill-master.' 

On the arrival of the president and suite to the battery, Cap- 
tain Mott fired a salute. The good president, after examining 
our position, etc., talked with the soldiers, taking many of them 
by the hand and speaking to them and encouraging them to be 
true to the flag, and seemed like a father amongst his children. 
The president left amidst the cheers of the whole camp. The 
firing of the salute was taken as a signal along the lines for 
moving into Virginia, on account of the previous orders not to 
fire, and it made considerable confusion ; but things were soon 
explained to the satisfaction of the general, and Captain Mott 
was excused for this little blunder. A day or two after this, a 
negro who was employed to cook for some of the boys belong- 
ing to Mott's battery on the Virginia side of the Potomac, saw 
a man near the cook's tent that he knew, and sung out to him, 
'How are you, Massa?' .The man scowled upon him and said, 
4 Civffee, you don't know me.' 'Yes, Massa, I knows you, de 
Lor' bless you, Massa; you specs I din know you, when dis 
here chile help you build de battery at Manassas Junction? 
golly, Massa, dis chile spec's you done gone to de wrong place.' 
The boys began to smell a rat, and seized him and took him to 
General Smith's head-quarters. I met him when the boys were 
bringing him over Chain bridge and said to him, ' Well, old 
boy, we've got you.' I never saw a man look so savage as he 
did at me, and he swore like an old pirate. I told him the old 
darkey was too sharp for him to come prowling round our camp. 
On stripping him they found a complete plan of all our works 
sewed up in one side of his vest, and the poor old rebel was 
afterwards hung as a spy, I suppose. On the picket line a good 
many rebel prisoners were taken by our boys and brought in ; 
sometimes as many as twenty or thirty in a day. 

My labors were intense about this time, and the weather was 
13 



194 GETTING SUN-STBUCK. 

very hot. One day I had drilled several companies, going 
through it practically, and then with the colonel crossed the 
Potomac and went on to the picket line, and had a long tramp 
reconnoitering, and then came back to camp in the hottest part 
of the day. I found, on my return, that some of the officers of 
the Vermont regiment had called for me for a drill in the bay- 
onet exercise. I went out to drill them with a Zouave cap on 
my head, and gave them instructions, explaining and then go- 
ing through the exercise ; and while at it I was sun-struck, and 
fell to the ground. I knew nothing for some time, and when I 
came to myself there was a crowd around me who thought I 
was dead. I felt strangely, and put my hand to my head and 
took hold of my cap to pull it off, and all the hair came off the 
top of my head with my cap. When Colonel Burnham found 
me in this condition, he sent me to Washington, to the care of 
Hon. D. E. Somes, our representative from Maine, where I was 
kindly treated until I was able to return to the field. 

When I was on my way to Mr. Somes' I met a fellow towns- 
man (James Andrews) whose services in going for a doctor and 
medicine will ever be gratefully remembered. In a short time, I 
returned to the regiment, and continued my labors among the 
officers and men, whose improvement in the arts of war was 
very marked. In consulting the officers of the regiment and 
others, it was decided that I could accomplish ten times as 
much for the country in returning to the East, and giving in- 
struction to new regiments then forming, of officers and men, 
as it was possible for me to do as a private carrying the musket, 
especially since my being sun-struck; and as my name was not 
on the muster-rolls, — the reason for which I have before given, 
— there would be nothing in the way of my doing so. I had 
got my trunk packed, and intended to bid good-by to the boys 
in a day or two, when orders*came for the army to march into 
Virginia. I resolved to go with them into this fight. After 
crossing the Potomac, we deployed to the right and left, and 
threw up what was afterwards called Fort Ethan Allen. 



BURNING THE WOODS. 195 

There was a long piece of woods at the left of the turnpike 
where the rebels went to cover, and from which they picked 
off a good many of our men. These woods were a little below 
Chain bridge, and extended several miles. 

Orders were given to cut down this forest, and thousands of 
men from the different regiments were detailed for the work. 
The boys worked with a will, and in an incredibly short time 
we had the fire sweeping over thousands of acres. The smoke 
had hardly cleared away when a courier arrived with dispatches, 
saying that the enemy were upon us in force, and our pickets 
were coming in. I wanted to see how our boys would behave 
under fire, and I resolved to go with them and share with them 
victory or defeat. 

Pretty soon our pickets began to come in, shouting as they 
arrived on the double quick, ' The rebels are upon us ! ' The 
long roll was beat, calling our men to arms. Some of our men 
were down on the banks of the Potomac, getting out the dead 
bodies of our boys, who had been shot by the rebs and thrown 
into the river. * 

Colonel Burnham ordered me to go over to the river and 
rally the boys there, and he would fall in the regiment and be 
ready to march on my return. I ran as fast as my legs would 
carry me, and shouted to them as soon as I got in hearing, 
'The rebs are upon us, and our pickets are driven in. Now is 
your time to strike for your country, and show what kind of 
stuff you are made of.' We struck a bee-line for the regiment. 
Passing a sentry, I seized his musket, telling him to get another, 
and sung out to the boys, ' Now men, I have showed you the 
theory of war, I will now show you the practical part.' They 
cheered and sung out, 'Bully for Ambler.' The regiment had 
fallen in and were on the march as we came up. I rushed up 
to the picket line, and Captain Mott's battery came tearing 
along with twelve horses dragging one of his big guns, the 
others following, and I got so earnest for the fray, that I fell 
right in with the battery and rushed with them, until we found 



195 ^ LITTLE SELF-ADULATION. 

ourselves face to face with the enemy, when we halted and un- 
limbered for action, and poured in our fire upon the rebel troops 
and some of his cavalry, our big gun cutting awful gaps in 
their ranks. For two hours there was fighting all alon^ our 
lines, until we routed them. How many were killed and wound 
ed we never knew. 

We lost some men, and some were taken prisoners. We then 
returned to camp pretty well exhausted, and pretty well satis- 
fied with our day's work. Men never behaved better under fire 
than the Sixth Maine Volunteers. The day had been intensely 
hot. At night, it came on to rain, and the whole regiment had 
to sleep on the ground in the mud and water. Perhaps, reader, 
you may think Ambler puts himself pretty prominently into 
this picture. Well, if you think I am egotistical, you shall 
see what an eye witness had to say about it, and you must re- 
member, too, that I am writing about myself. Here is what 
was published in the Boston Journal at that time, referring to 
this event : 

Sergeant Ambler. — The following extract from an army 
letter, contains some intelligence of a gentleman who will be 
remembered by many in this city as an accomplished drill-mas- 
ter. He has been connected with the Sixth Maine Regiment 
as an instructor, and was with them in the recent reconnoisance 
on Lewinsville. He' writes thus: 'Accompanying the Sixth 
Maine Rsgiment was an Englishman, a teacher of the sword ex- 
ercise, well-known in Boston as a teacher of fencing and bayo- 
net exercise (I. W. Ambler), who stands at the head of his pro- 
fession, and has won the esteem of the whole regiment by his 
active and energetic disposition, and kind and generous nature; 
and he showed himself to be a soldier, not only in theory but 
in reality. Although he had packed his trunk and made all due 
preparations for leaving for home, his term of engagement hav- 
ing expired, when the cannon began to boom, he took a musket 
from a sentry, and marched at the head of the regiment, saying, 



CAPT. STRONG'S ESCAPE. 197 

* Come on boys, now is the time to show whether you can fight,' 
and led the way up to the pickets amid the cheers of the reg- 
iment *and cries of 'bully for Ambler.' The pervading spirit 
of the troops seems to be an eagerness for action, prevailing so 
powerfully, that even the sick will smuggle themselves into the 
ranks against the orders of the physician. With such a spirit 
pervading our army, what may we not expect as the result of 
the war, and what have we to fear ? ' 

No better fighting was done during the war, and there were 
instances of personal valor that would shed a lustre on the old 
Spartan days. As I was looking out for stragglers and others 
who had got separated from the main body next day, I met 
Captain Wm. E. Strong, of the First Wisconsin Regiment, 
coming in covered with blood, with a hole shot in his cheek. 
He looked every inch a hero ; a strong, manly form, only twen- 
ty-two years old, who had rushed from College to the battle- 
field. He tells his own story better than I can, and I give it 
here as he gave it. 

* As I was passing through a thicket I was surrounded by six 
rebel soldiers, four infantry and two cavalry; seeing I was 
caught, I thought it best to surrender at once, so I said, * Gen- 
tlemen, you have me.' I was asked various questions as to who 
I was, where I was going, to what regiment I belonged, etc. 
all of which I refused to answer. One of the footmen said, 

*Let us hang the d d Yankee scoundrel,' and pointed to a 

convenient limb. Another said, 'No, let us take him to camp 
and hang him there.' One of the cavalry, who seemed to be the 
leader said, ' We'll take him to camp.' They then marched me 
through an open place ; two footmen in front, and two in rear, 
and a cavalry man each side of me. I was armed with two re- 
volvers and a sword. After going some twenty rods, the ser- 
geant, who was on my right, noticing my pistols, commanded 
me to halt and give them up, together with my sword. I said, 
'certainly, gentlemen,' and immediately halted. As I stopped 
they all filed past me, and of course were in front. 



198 CAPT. STBONG'S ESCAPE. 

' We were at this time in an open part of the woods, but 
about sixty yards to the rear was a thicket of undergrowth. 
Thus everything was in my favor. I was quick of foot,*and a 
passable shot. Yet the design of escape was not formed until 
I brought my pistol pouches to the front part of my body, and 
my hand touched the stocks. The grasping my pistols sug- 
gested my cocking them as I drew them out. This I did, and 
the moment I got command of them I shot down the two foot- 
men nearest me, about six feet, one with each hand, and ran 
for the thicket. The confusion of my captors was so great that 
I had nearly reached cover when they fired. One ball passed 
through my left cheek and out of my mouth. Another musket 
ball went through my canteen. The two cavalry separated, 
one to my right, the other to my left, to cut off my retreat. 
The remaining two footmen charging directly down on me. I 
turned and fired three or four shots, but the balls flew wild and 
on I ran, when I got over a small hillock and had nearly re- 
gained one of our pickets, I was headed off by both the mounted 
men. 

* The sergeant called on me to surrender. I gave no reply, 
but fired at him, and ran in the opposite direction. He over- 
took me, and just as his horse's head was nearly abreast of me, 
I turned and took good aim and pulled the trigger, but the 
cap snapped. At this time his carbine was unslung, and hold- 
ing it with both hands on the left side of his horse, he fired at 
my breast without raising the piece to his shoulder ; and the 
shot passed through the side of my coat and shirt just grazing 
the skin. The piece was so near as to burn the cloth about 
the size of one's hand. I then fired at him and brought him 
to the ground, hanging by his foot in the left stirrup, his horse 
galloping toward his camp. I saw no more of the other 
horseman on my left, nor of the footmen ; but, running on, 
soon came to our pickets, much exhausted from my exertions 
and loss of blood.' 

Sure enough, with such a spirit as that we had a right to ex- 



SCOTT SENTENCED TO BE SHOT. 199 

pect a victory, and I think such daring should be written in 
letters of gold, and I say ' Bully for Captain Strong? 

One more touching incident, of which I was an eye-witness, 
and with which I had something to do, I will describe before I 
leave the front. It was about this time that William Scott, a 
private of a Vermont regiment, while on sentry went to sleep ; 
and in this condition was found, and taken before a court-mar- 
tial, tried, found guilty, and was sentenced to be shot. I visit- 
ed the poor fellow in the guard tent, and said, ' William, I 
hope God has prepared you for the awful trial.' He was deep- 
ly moved. Tears ran down his sun-burnt cheeks. He looked 
at me a moment, and then looked up to heaven and said, ' If 
it is God's will that I must be shot, O God, thy will be done! 
Drill-master pray for me, and pray for me in your meeting to-, 
night under the old elm tree.' I talked to him as well as I 
knew how, and got down on my knees by his side and prayed 
God to strengthen him ; but my heart was too full for utter- 
ance, and my feelings for my poor comrade found vent in tears 
much better than in words. We had his case mentioned un- 
der the tree in our prayer- meeting, and there were many 
groans and tears and prayers for poor Scott that night. We 
knew he was a good soldier, and never would have slept on 
his post if he had not been exhausted from heavy marching 
and overwork. When the day came for him to be shot, orders 
were given for twelve muskets to be placed in position, six of 
them to be loaded with balls, the others with blanks, and all 
capped ; and twelve men were detailed for the painful duty, 
each to select his gun, so that neither could know who had 
6hed his comrade's blood. The men filed out, six on each 
side in a line, and William Scott in the centre. I took my 
place beside him, and orders were given, — ' Attention, forward 
march.' As I walked by his side I told him to keep ivp good 
heart, and die like a soldier and a Christian. He held the 
Testament in both hands, looking down on it, and kept turn- 
ing one thumb over the other. I wanted to see if Americans 



200 PARDONED BY PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 

could stand up to be shot as boldly as some Europeans had 
done. I had seen English soldiers kneel on their coffins, and 
open their bosoms with their own hands, until six bullets 
pierced them, and fall headlong in their coffins. I was anxious 
that William should stand as firm. 

When we reached the spot where my comrade was to die, 
all the regiments, some ten thousand men, had fallen in and 
formed round in the form of a triangle, its open point looking 
off into Virginia, opposite which William stood. I stood be- 
side him when his crime was read and the sentence of the 
court-martial to be shot, encouraging him to put his trust in 
God, and meet death like a man. I then stepped aside, as the 
twelve men were getting into position to fire. He looked 
toward the open space, off into Virginia, and then looked at 
me and dropped his head. At this moment word ran along 
the lines that a horseman was seen approaching, waving his 
sword in the air. He dashed up to the lines, his horse covered 
with foam, and waving his sword again, handed a dispatch to 
an orderly, who passed it to the officer in charge. He opened 
it with a trembling hand, and with a more tremulous voice 
Tead the pardon sent by President Lincoln, while cheer after 
cheer rent the air as the president followed rapidly in his 
coach. When the word pardon fell on Scott's ear he ran to 
me and fell on my neck with both arms around me, exclaim 
ing, 'I am saved.' I cried like a baby, and could not help it; 
and the eyes of the soldiers filled with tears as they cheered 
the good president for this just act of clemency, and full well 
did William Scott merit it. Most, if not all of my readers, 
have read of William's heroic conduct afterwards, until he met 
his death on the field of battle, gallantly fighting for the 
Union. 

Here are some beautiful and touching verses written by 
Francis De Haes Jameson, descriptive of the scene and his he- 
roic death. 



ODE ON SCOTT. 201 

THE SLEEPING SENTINEL. 

'Twas in the sultry summer time, as war's red records show, 
When patriot armies rose to meet a fratricidal foe, 
When from the North, and East, and West, like the upheaving sea, 
Swept forth Columbia's sons to make our country truly free. 

Within a prison's gloomy walls where shadows veiled decay, 
In fetters on a heap of straw a youthful soldier lay, 
Heart-broken, hopeless, and forlorn, with short and feverish breath, 
He waited but the appointed hour to die a culprit's death. 

Yet, but a few brief weeks before, untroubled with a care, 

He roamed at will and freely drew his native mountain air, 

Where sparkling streams leap mossy rocks, from many a woodland 

fount, 
And waving elms and grassy slopes give beauty to Vermont* 

Without a murmur he endured a service new and hard ; 
But wearied with a toilsome march, it chanced one night on guard 
He sank exhausted at his post, and the gray morning found 
His prostrate form, a sentinel asleep upon the ground. 

So in the silence of the night, all weary on the sod 
Sank the disciples, watching near the suffering Son of God ; 
Yet Jesus, with compassion moved, beheld their heavy eyes, 
And though betrayed to ruthless foes, forgiving, bade them rise. 

But God is love ! Finite minds can faintly comprehend 
But gently mercy in his rule may with stern justice blend. 
And this poor soldier, seized and bound, found none to justify, 
While war's inexorable law decreed that he must die. 

'Twas morning. On a tented field and through the heated haze 
Flashed back from lines of burnished steel the sun's. effulgent blaze; 
While from a sombre prison-house, seen slowly to emerge, 
A sad procession o'er the sward moved to a muffled dirge. 

And in the midst with faltering step, and pale and anxious face, 

In manacles between two guards a soldier had his place. 

A youth led out to die ! And yet it was not death, but shame 

That smote his gallant heart with dread, and shook his manly frame. 

Still on before the martialed ranks the train pursued its way, 
Up to the designated spot whereon a coffin lay. 
His coffin! And with reeling brain, despairing, desolate, 
He took his station by its side, abandoned to his fate. 



202 ODE CONTINUED. 

There came across his wavering sight strange pictures in the air. 
He saw his distant mountain home. He saw his mother dear. 
He saw his father, bowed with grief through fast declining years. 
He saw a nameless grave, and then the vision closed in tears. 

Yet once again, in double file advancing, there he saw 

Twelve comrades, sternly set apart to execute the law ; 

But saw no more. His senses swam, deep darkness settled round, 

And, shuddering, he waited now the fatal volley's sound ! 

Then suddenly was heard the noise of steeds and wheels approach, 
And rolling through a cloud of dust appeared a stately coach. 
On past the guards and through the field its rapid course was bent, 
Till halting 'mid the lines, was seen the nation's president! 

He came to save that stricken soul, now waking from despair, 

And from a thousand voices rose a shout which rent the air. 

The pardoned soldier understood the tones of jubilee, 

And, bounding from his fetters, blessed the hand that made him free. 

'Twas spring. Within a verdant vale, where Warwick's crystal tide 
Reflected o'er its peaceful breast fair fields on either side ; 
Where birds and flowers combined to cheer a sylvan solitude, 
Two threatening armies, face to face, in fierce defiance stood. 

A sudden shock, which shook the earth 'mid vapors dense and dim, 
Proclaimed along the echoing hills the conflict had begun. 
While shot and shell athwart the stream with fiendish fury sped, 
To strew among the living lines the dying and the dead. 

Then louder than the raging storm pealed forth the clear command, 
Charge, soldiers, charge! And at the word, with shouts, a fearless 

band, 
Two hundred heroes from Vermont rushed onward through the flood, 
And upward, o'er the rising ground, they marked their way in blood. 

The smitten foe before them fled in terror from his post, 
While, unsustained, two hundred stand to battle with a host ! 
Then turning, as the rallying ranks with murderous fire replied, 
They bore the fallen o'er the field and through the purple tide. 

The fallen ! And the first who fell, in that unequal strife, 
Was he whom mercy sped to save when justice claimed his life. 
The pardoned soldier ! And while yet the conflict raged around, 
While yet his life-blood ebbed away through every gaping wound, 



HOW HIS PARDON WAS OBTAINED. 203 

While yet his voice grew tremulous, and death bedimmed his eye, 
He called his comrades to attest he had not feared to die. 
And, with his last expiring breath, a prayer to Heaven was sent, 
That God, with his assisting grace, would bless our president. 

It must not be forgotten how his pardon was obtained. His 
sister, hearing of his sentence, came on to Washington, and on 
her knees pleaded with the president for her brother, telling him 
that her brother left home against the wishes of his father and 
mother, all glowing with patriotism, determined to fight for 
the flag ; that his father was a minister, and that shooting 
William would carry her father and mother broken-hearted to 
the grave ; and, with upturned and streaming eyes, saying, 
1 Dear president, spare, oh spare my poor brother/ 



204 GOING BACK TO MAINK 



CHAPTER XXVIII, 



And here I leave the boys for the East, to help blow up the 
the Union fire there, and show the new regiments how to use 
the implements of war. Poor fellows, how I pitied them, lying 
in the corn-fields, with no tents, covering themselves with corn- 
stalks, anything to keep the dews and night winds off; often 
waking up to find it raining and themselves in puddles of wa- 
ter; many sick with diarrhoea. It was the hardest time of the 
war. Arrangements had not been perfected for the comfort and 
health of the men, everything having been done in haste. Reg- 
iments had been hurried to the front to protect the capital, with- 
out the necessary conveniences with them to make their condi- 
tion even tolerable; but such are the fortunes of war. But I 
must leave. The work of drilling the new regiments demanded 
my attention, and my motto had been, 'Help the country any- 
where and anyhow.' I had now been toiling some seven 
months without pay, and when I left the boys I had no money 
to get home with, or to buy rations on the way. When I got 
to Georgetown, I sold my watch and ring to get something to 
eat. 

When I got to Washington, I called on General Scott, to see 
if I could get a pass to Maine. His orderly took me in to 
see him. As I entered his room, I gave him the military salute. 
Well,' said General Scott, in his peculiar military short-hand, 
'what do you want, my man?' I said, 'I want a pass to go to 
Maine.' Then the general said, 'What are you doing, sir, at 
the front?' I told him I had been drilling the officers and men 
of the Sixth Maine Volunteers and some others. Said he, 



A PASS FBOM SCOTT. 205 

♦Where did you learn your drill?' I told Lira, 'In the English 
army, which I joined in 1842.' ' Who was your commander-in- 
chief?' asked Scott. I told him 'the Duke of Wellington.' 
' Who,' said he, 'the Iron Duke, my bosom friend? What tac- 
tics are you drilling in ? ' I told him, ' Scott's heavy infantry, 
and sometimes in light infantry ; but I had been drilling mostly 
in the bayonet and broadsword exercise, and the skirmish ex- 
ercise.' 

'Well,' said the general, 'suppose you have a company stand- 
ing at "attention" with their fire-arms, explain the shoulder of 
arms to me in common time.' I said, 'at the word "shoulder" 
is only a caution; at the word "arms," the fire-lock must be 
thrown, in one motion, and with as little appearance of effort as 
possible, into its proper jDOsition on the left shoulder, the hand 
crossing the body in so doing. Stand steady, men. Wait for 
the word " two." At the word " two," drop the right hand as 
quick as possible to the right side. Stand steady, men, not a 
move.' 'That will do, that will do,' said the old general, 'here 
Mr. , go with this soldier to Thomas A. Scott, the Secreta- 
ry of War, and tell him to give this man a pass to Maine and 
back. There was a little advantage in going to the old general, 
for an order from him was immediately attended to, although 
there were about the office of the secretary several hundred ap- 
plicants ; I got my passes without a question or delay. It is a 
little funny that I was recognized by the war department for 
service and passes, but not for pay. Here is one of the passes 
from the Secretary of War: 



Washington, Sept. 10, 1861. 
Agent 1ST. H. & N. L. and Stonington Railroad Co., Boston. 



.1 



War Department, 
shington, Sept. 10, 1 
fGTON Railroad Co., 
Please furnish Sergeant Ambler, Sixth Regiment Maine Vol- 
unteers, with passage free of charge to him from Boston to New 
York, on government account. 



206 WHY I DID NOT GO BACK. 

Relieved from duty upon certificate of Thomas A. Scott 
Cause, — returning from recruiting. 

By order of the Secretary of War, 

Thomas A. Scott. 
General Manager of Government Railways and Telegraphs 

Received Ticket, , 1861. 



^N~ote. — Please file this order and return it to the department, 
with account stated to the first of each month, properly certi- 
fied for payment. 

My passes from Washington to Maine were given up of 
course, and placed on file in the war department at Washing- 
ton, according to the note appended to the pass I have inserted. 
Not returning to Washington, this one was not used, therefore 
it remains in my hands. The reason of my not returning to 
the seat of war, was not because my whole soul was not heart- 
ily in the cause, neither was it because I did not get any pay 
for my service, for I have ever felt confident, that when the 
facts of my relation to the army, sufferings and service were 
fully understood, a just government would not allow a poor 
fellow like me to go entirely unrewarded. 

My condition was such that I could not go back, as the fol- 
lowing communication in the Portland Advertiser will show, 
better than I can describe it. It is headed : 

Sergeant Amblek. Mr. Advertiser^ — A case of great 
hardship has just come to my knowledge, and I must beg your 
help. 

Sergeant Ambler, so well known as a soldier of the Cross, 
after giving his whole time and all his earnings for the last 
twelvemonth to the service of his adopted country, is now suf- 
fering — he and his family — both from sickness and want. 

After giving, — literally giving instructions to the officers and 
men of the Massachusetts and Maine Volunteers, month after 



AT WOBK DBILLING. 207 

month ; after training the Sixth Maine Regiment in Virginia, 
and the Fifteenth Maine Regiment in Augusta, he had his right 
wrist dislocated by the stroke of a sabre, — took a severe cold 
there in camp, which was followed by a rheumatic fever of three 
months; and then came to Portland intending to teach the 
bayonet and broadsword exercise, with most encouraging pros- 
pects, hoping to secure something for his family before he 
returned to the South ; but while giving the second lesson here 
in the bayonet exercise, he ruptured a blood vessel, and might 
have bled to death, but for the patient kindness and providen- 
tial care of strangers. At this time, having nearly lost the use 
of his left hand, partly on account of an old sabre stroke, and 
partly from the waste of blood, he is now helpless, and almost 
hopeless, though upheld by a Christian faith. 

Nothing worthy of note occurred on my way home. I felt 
somewhat jaded out with my hard work at the front, and my 
long ride day and night to reach the old Pine Tree State ; but 
it was good to sit down again with my family, and a few days 
of rest, with the good nursing and care of a faithful wife, put 
me on my ' taps ' again as good as new. My services as drill- 
master, at home and at the front, had given me some notoriety, 
and the papers dragged me into notice again. I was immedi- 
ately beset from all quarters from new regiments then forming, 
for instruction in the various drill exercises, and I could not 
stay at home if I would, and I am sure I would not stay at 
home if I could, when my glorious adopted country was in peril, 
and the boys needed instruction in the arts of self-defense. 

I got up a company of over a hundred men in Biddeford, 
whose names I now have on my list, and drilled them. I did 
not expect to deviate from the usual course of instruction in 
this company ; but after teaching the officers the broadsword 
exercise, and all of them the bayonet exercise, and the various 
maneuvring, marching, and word of command, the privates in- 
sisted in being taught the broadsword exercise as well as the 



208 THE EXHIBITION. 

officers. It being in my own city, and the boys my own neigh- 
bors and friends, I gave the whole company instruction in each 
exercise, so that tho privates were not a whit behind the officers 
in the use of the broadsword. This pleased them, and, on the 
whole, gratified me, for I felt some pride in having the city where 
I lived well represented on the field. Every man was prepared, 
if an officer fell, to take his place. 

"They made such progress, that I concluded to give a public 
exhibition, for three reasons. The first was to get up a milita- 
ry fever among the citizens, and so fill up the regiments. The 
second was to show what skill the boys had attained. And 
the final reason was to get a little cash ; for there was ft very 
solemn sound in my larder about this time, calling on me to re- 
cruit a little in that direction, if I would escape a merited cur- 
tain lecture. So I selected sixteen men of the company, and 
gave an exhibition in the city hall, of which the Journal gave 
the following report : 

Sergeant Ambler's Military Exhibition. Another 
Tremendous Battle. — Amid the tumult and wonderful reve- 
lations of war, it is not surprising that the fiery waves of battle 
should break over the quiet city of Biddeford, for places no 
less prosperous and happy have been quite as seriously visited. 

But the premonitions of the conflict of which we are writing 
had been so freely scattered among us as to arouse and prepare 
the people, in some degree at least, for the opening of the war- 
like drama. Nor had the announcement that a West Pointer, 
a pupil of the idolized McLellan would appear, served to di- 
minish the already excited anticipations of the people. 

The hall door was besieged by no noiseless throng long before 
they were opened, and after they were, a continual crowd 
poured in until every nook and corner of the spacious room 
was alive with human forms. Never before was this hall so 
densely packed, and we believe it never will be again, unless 



TIIE DESCRIPTION. 209 

Sergeant Ambler should repeat his performance, which he has 
already been requested to do. 

The immense audience, all restive and anxious, grew impa- 
tient. 

Finally the exhibition opened, and the audience were en- 
lightened in the use of the bayonet and sword, giving them 
some idea of the skill which a soldier must acquire in order to 
do good service in battle. 

The exercises with the sword and bayonet elicited universal 
admiration, and as the movements, which no unfamiliar person 
could comprehend, were explained by the sergeant, his magio 
words fanned the burning excitement into one long, wild shout 
of applause, as the gale fans the kindling flame into a terrific 
conflagration. 

The grand performance of the evening was the cavalry charge. 
Taking the masked battery. Sergeant Ambler commanding 
the centre, rode in upon his splendid charger, purchased ex- 
pressly for the occasion, with Haley and Horton upon the right 
and left wings. The conflict was long and severe ; and as 
Ambler clung to his horse with obstinate tenacity, his praises 
were borne upward from every part of pit and gallery. 

The fight grew hotter ; and as the keen and perceptive ser- 
geant saw that the courage of his troops was changing to 
dismay, and fearing another Bull Run stampede might occur, 
unless his own brave deeds could rally them, he dismounted, 
and leaving his unterrified charger loose, despite the vociferous 
admonitions of the audience, ' hitch him,' ' tie him,' etc., etc., 
walked up to the very face of the masked battery, which was 
all the time pouring out shot and shell from its savage Colum- 
biad, followed by his defiant troops, who now seemed bent on 
victory or death. The rebels under Beauregard resisted with 
unwonted obstinacy, and were only overpowered after a long 
and cruel fight, such as the people of this city have seldom 
been called upon to behold. 

Strange to relate, none were killed in this engagement, but 
14 



210 GENERAL LOW'S LETTER. 

among the wounded were the following, who are all injured 
more or less severely : 

Sergeant Ambler, Co. A, First Infantry — side and leg, caused 
by a severe collision of his body with a sightless weapon in the 
hands of a rebel. 

Dr. Haley suffered a facial disfigurement. 

Stephen Andrews, contusion on the cranium. 
- Henry Hutchins, injured arm. 

William Hoppin, abrasure of the skin on the shoulder. 

Mr. Horton, West Pointer, wounded in the back and elbow 
by a sword thrust. 

William Annis, wounded in the back. 

Many of the best features of the performance would improve 
by repetition, and we hope to hear from our worthy citizen sol- 
dier again. 

Notwithstanding admitting my Company, and the Sabbath- 
school I had formed in the city free, besides some other dead- 
heads, with an admission fee of only ten cents, I realized over 
seventy dollars, which I handed over to Mrs. Ambler with my 
compliments, and for which she smiled like a May morning, and 
of course the promised curtain lecture was indefinitely post- 
poned. I then went to Augusta to drill some of the First Maine 
Cavalry in the use of the sabre. The Fifteenth Maine Volun- 
teers were in camp here at this time, and also the Thirteenth. 
General Dow, of Portland, was then colonel of the Thirteenth 
Maine Volunteers, the officers of which I drilled in the various 
exercises, and whose mark was made on many a battle-field. 
See General Dow's letter. 

I know Sergeant Ambler well, and have done so for many 
years. Without pay or position, he rendered me important aid 
in drilling company officers, mostly new and green, in my com- 
mand, as they came into camp from their various localities. 
Neal Dow, late Brigadier-general, U. S. Vols. 



BREAKING MY WBIST. 211 

While drilling the Fifteenth Maine Volunteers, I met with 
an accident which put me back some in my work here. When 
drilling Captain Prescott my right wrist was dislocated, and 
then set by Dr. Kimball. This, in connection with lying in a 
cold camp, for it was winter, brought on a rheumatic fever which 
laid me by for some time ; but with good nursing after getting 
home, by the best wife in the world, I got about again, and went 
to Portland to drill the officers of the camps in the vicinity. May- 
or McLellan gave me the use of the city hall for this purpose. 
My wrist had not got very strong, but the needs of the officers 
were so great for instruction to prepare them for the field, that I 
ventured to do the best I could. I could get on very well with 
the sword exercise with great care. While drilling a lieutenant 
in the bayonet exercise at self-defense, I gave word for him to 
longe out in prime. I parried in prime. The socket of his bay- 
onet and the muzzle of his firelock struck against the center of 
my firelock with force, bringing my left wrist back and badly 
breaking it. This would not have happened had not my right 
wrist been weakened by the recent dislocation at Augusta, which 
prevented my parrying in prime with sufficient strength to 
withstand the longe in prime of a heavy man. While endeav- 
oring to recover my balance, so as to save myself from falling, 
I ruptured a blood-vessel, and the blood flowed freely from my 
stomach. I asked the boys to take me to Rev. Mr. Tuckerman's, 
who aided with others in stanching the blood. Any continued 
violent effort to this day sets me to bleeding, and from which I 
never expect to fully recover. I was taken home to Biddeford, 
and doctors Greene and Hill set my wrist and put on splints, 
and as I had become considerably exhausted from loss of blood 
and pain from my broken arm, they proposed to me to take a 
little brandy. I told them no, I would die before I would touch 
another drop of liquor. It had well-nigh made me over, soul 
and body, to the devil, and once fully out of his clutches, I pre- 
ferred death to returning to the old fellow's camp and rations. 

As soon as I was able to go out, with my left arm in splints, 



212 GETTING ANOTHER WOUND. 

I went to Augusta ; as the cry was still coming from the regi- 
ments there for help in the drill, and with my broken arm slung 
behind me, I drilled the Sixteenth Maine Volunteers. I was 
obliged to be very cautious, on account of the old rupture of 
the blood-vessel alluded to before ; I got on very well, but drill- 
ing is a very dangerous work at the best. One day, while drill- 
ing back of the State-house, a large number of spectators being 
present, among whom was the mayor of our city and Mr. Chas. 
Hardy, I met with another mishap. I was giving a lesson in 
the sword exercise to one of the officers, who made a false 
thrust and stuck the point of his small sword through my right- 
hand, between the thumb and index finger, which came very 
near giving me the lockjaw. Here I was, a double and twisted 
cripple. My left wrist broken, my right hand terribly cut, and 
inwardly ruptured, so that nobody would have bid three cents 
for me if I had been put up at auction, except my wife, who in- 
sisted upon it that she wouldn't abate a cent from my value on 
that account. What strange creatures these women are ! The 
more a fellow is used up, the more they set by them. Well, 
that was my case. When I got home, my wife not only had to 
earn my bread for me, but to put it into my mouth, and then 
laugh at me because I had the blues over it. In this condition 
the boys of the Sixteenth made me the first donation that I had 
received since I entered the service. 

But time, that old doctor that has done so much since Adam 
to heal us all, had done well for me, my right hand got well 
and I went again to Augusta, and drilled the Twenty-first 
Regiment, of which Colonel Johnson was in command. I had 
to do the work with one hand, the other slung behind me. The 
editor of the Kennebec Journal at this time, writes : ' Colonel 
Johnson, of the Twenty-first, requests us to say, that he feels 
greatly obliged to him (Sergeant Ambler) for the instruction 
he himself has received, and that imparted to the officers and 
men of his command by Mr. Ambler. Few men during the 
war have done more, with less reward pecuniarily, than he. If 



AT GALLOUP'S ISLAND. 213 

thanks could make a man rich, Sergeant Ambler would be 
wealthy indeed, but unfortunately it takes something more sub- 
stantial to support life. We hope his case will not be forgotten 
by the Legislature.' 

At this time volunteering began to slack up, and it was hard 
filling up these regiments. I went to Bath and made a speech 
to raise men, and soon got over a hundred men for the Twenty- 
first, with the promise that I would drill them. I found 'lip 
exercise' as important as anything at this period, and having 
seen long service in the English army and some at home, I 
could get men, when the 'go-boys' speech-makers often foiled. 
I went to Biddeford and spoke, and to Boston where I first 
opened fire, and spoke there again and again, and got hundreds 
of my countrymen to enter the service. Here, I was requested 
to go to Long Island and Galloup's Island, to drill General 
Deven's command. This was a rendezvous where men were 
carried as fast as recruited, to be drilled and sent to the front. 
I spent a good deal of time here, from the last part of 1863, to 
April, 1865, instructing both officers and men, as my passes will 
show. I here give the general pass, with its date, and the date 
of the last indorsement on the back of it, by Captain Rand, 
captain of the guard. 



Head-quarters, Department Drafted Men, 
Long Island, Boston Harbor, 



)rafted Men, ) 
;, Oct. 8, 1863. ) 



Pass Sergeant Ambler to Long Island and return, by boat. 
Good until further orders. 

By order of Brigadier-general Devens, 

W. A. Hill, Lieut. A. A. A. G. 

This shows my first service here, and the last. On the back 
of this general pass is the following from Captain Rand. 

April 4, 1865. 

Corporal of the guard will consider this good until further 

orders. 

(Signed) Rand. 



214 SOBER REFLECTIONS. 

Thus the reader will see, from the time the first gun was fired 
on Fort Sumpter up to the surrender of General Leo, I worked 
for my adopted country in every way in my power. Can any 
man upon the muster-rolls show a prompter, a more patient and 
unwearied service for the Union, from the beginning to the end 
of the war, though he were native born ? 

'Tis true, I could not say of my wounds, broken bones, and 
disabilities, that they were received while gallantly leading in 
the charge, and so excite the admiration of all by such daring; 
but they were received as truly in the country's service, in more 
humble and less exciting scenes; but often requiring more self- 
denial and patience in duty, than when inspired by the pres- 
ence of the enemy, the shrill notes of the bugle's call, the thun- 
dering of cannon, and the rattling musketry, and the echoing 
commands of the plumed officers dashing along the lines on 
their foaming chargers. These things have an inspiration to 
make men valliant, when a mightier will and a higher patriot- 
ism only can hold a man up to the work amidst less exciting 
scenes at home. 

When the war had ended, and the dust and din of battle had 
oeased, and the good old flag floated in triumph once more over 
our undivided country, in looking over the whole matter, I 
could not regret the steps I had taken. I felt inwardly that I 
had played the part of a man, and could I have multiplied my- 
self into a thousand drill-masters, all should have been laid on 
the altar of Liberty and Union. But here were now some 
shadows that would not down at my bidding. Painful realities 
stared me in the face that I must now grapple with as best I 
could. My health shattered, a cripple for life, and a family 
looking to me for bread, with the little means I had saved up 
to educate myself with all gone, poverty — dire, cruel, pittiless — 
staring me and mine in the face. Oh, it is easier to face armies 
with a man's heart and hopes, than to stand crippled and helpless, 
with grim want shaking its pittiless finger in your face. I was 
obliged, from my crippled state and with my proud heart, to say, 



SURGEON'S CERTIFICATE. 215 

'To dig,-I cannot; to beg, I am ashamed.' Without an educa- 
tion, and one hand useless at my side, and the constant danger 
from a ruptured blood-vessel, it was not much unlike human na- 
ture to have a set-to with the blues, with a family on my hands, 
and no prospect of ever being a sound man. See the surgeon's 
letter. 

Saco, Me., March 13, 1871. I 
This may certify, that I have known Sergeant I. W. Ambler 
for a long series of years, both before and since the ' War of 
the Rebellion,' and on the breaking out of the war he threw all 
aside, and entered heart and hand into the service of the United 
States; while thus engaged, he received an injury causing the 
rupture of a blood vessel, from the effects of which he has 
never fully recovered ; as over exercise ever since,, and at the 
present time, produces a repetition of the trouble. He also re- 
ceived a dislocation of the right wrist and a fracture of the left, 
and since these injuries has been unable, and, in my opinion, 
ever will be, to attend to business of any description to advan- 



tage. 



J. E. L. Kimball, M. D., 
Late Surg. 27th Beg. Me. Vols. 



216 FAMINE IN MY PUBSE. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



When I began to work for the Union cause, 1 had some 
funds which I had saved from the sale of my book, for the pur- 
pose of educating myself to preach the gospel as I felt it my 
duty to do, all of which I used up to support my family, and to 
pay my bills while drilling our officers and men at home and in 
the field. My wife's mother gave me eighteen hundred dollars 
during the war, for the purpose of securing a little home that I 
could call my own. A part of this also, together with some 
over two hundred dollars given me by the Sixteenth Maine 
Volunteers, to which I have already alluded, and the boys on 
Galloup's Island, and several other gentlemen, I paid out in the 
service. With the balance I purchased some property for a 
home, paying $1000 down, and gave my note and mortgage for 
a balance of $500. So the reader will see my prospects were 
not very flattering. I had tried to be prudent, but I spent a 
good deal in trying to regain my health, and to recover the use 
of my arm ; but it availed nothing. I still felt anxious to get 
on with my studies, and perhaps more so now than before, be- 
cause my health was gone, and, being a cripple too, I was sure 
that now, more than ever, I must be dependent on my wits for 
my bread. My friends who had been cognizant of ray labors 
for the Union cause said, c Sergeant, why don't you apply to 
the general government for a pension, and pay for your services 
during the war? It is your duty to do so.' Such advice from 
prominent men, whose wisdom and kindness I could not doubt, 
seemed to me ought not to be disregarded ; and especially, 
when it so completely coincided with my own opinion of the 



SYMPATHY FOB COMRADES. 217 

case, and I concluded to do so, not as a beggar, for I did feel 
(and I don't admit that it is ostentation to put it in that light) 
that I had a just claim on the government for some remunera- 
tion for my services during the whole war, and to be reimbursed 
for what I had expended of my own funds while drilling the 
boys for service/ If' I am wrong in my views of the matter, 
lest any one should feel that I am stubborn about it, I wish them 
to distinctly understand that I am willing to be forgiven. 

Here I must not omit to state, that having done all in my 
power to aid those around me, for I could not see a brother 
soldier hungry, and not divide my loaf with him. I had, for- 
tunately, or unfortunately, got a little notoriety in that line, 
and if anybody was sick or suffering, I was pretty sure to be 
sought out. . Good friends, while I was city missionary, often 
filled my hands with good things for the needy, and I have no 
doubt I often got credit for benefits that others bestowed 
through me ; but after I entered the service for the Union, 
these sources were generally dried up, and what I could do 
now, I must do out of my own penury. To a soldier's call I 
never could turn away. The country had said, 'go to the 
bloody field and save us, and you shall have laurels placed upon 
your brow, and your graves shall be strewn with flowers, and 
your little children and widows shall be taken care of, not as 
paupers, but as the children and widows of heroes, whose name 
and fame we delight to honor, and for whose families we can 
never do enough, not as a charity, but as a debt the country 
will delight to pay, as a slight token of her appreciation of the 
noble deeds of her fallen heroes.' Well, that was flattering, 
and many a noble heart by such words was charmed away 
from wife and children, in the hour of his country's need. And 
many, too, have been cared for since their return; but alas! how 
many have been left through some informality, in some way, to 
pine away and die in poverty and want. 

Private Wm. Kelly, who belonged to the Sixth Maine Vols., 
who had served more than four years, and who was honorably clis- 



218 A SAD STORY. 

charged at the close of the war, June 28, 1865, was one of these 
cases, whose condition and death, with its sad surroundings, I 
will describe. He had fought in the battles of Lee's Mills, Wil- 
liamsburg, Golden Farm, White Oak Swamp, Antietam, and 
Fredericksburg, was several times wounded, the last of which 
was by a ball that pierced his breast, passing nearly through 
him, and was finally extracted by Dr. Warren, taking it out 
from under the shoulder blade, leaving him very much reduced, 
so that he never was well afterwards. I had not seen him since 
I drilled him with the rest of the regiment at the front. One 
night, an old gray-headed lady very poorly clad called on me, 
and asked me if I knew William Kelly of the Sixth Maine, and 
said he was very sick and wanted to see me. I told her I 
thought I did, and would visit him immediately. It was his 
mother, who, on her return, told her son that his old drill-mas- 
ter, Ambler, was coming to see him. He arose to dress, and 
fainted. His wife ran to meet me, and I hastened to the mis- 
erable dwelling, up one or two rickety flights of stairs in a back 
way, into a wretched open room with no furniture save a few 
broken chairs, and an old stove and a miserable bed upon which 
lay poor William, who reached out his withered hand while the 
tears ran clown his cheeks and said, * O drill-master, I am so 
glad you have come,' and sobbed and cried like a child. On 
looking round I found them suffering for food to eat, they had 
nothing, actually nothing that could be called eatable in the 
house ! I said, ' William, how is it that you are in such a con- 
dition as this?' He turned his head toward his wife and said, 
1 ask Mary, she will tell you.' Here is her story: 

4 We lived in Portland, and William was not able to do much. 
I took in washing to get something to eat. One of our little girls 
was taken sick, and I had to attend to her; but the child grew 
worse till I closed its eyes in death. I bargained with the un- 
dertaker to wash for him to pay for the coffin, and poor William 
was unable to pay for a hearse, and the corpse was carried on a 
dray to the burying-ground, and William dug the grave him- 



KELLY'S WIFE'S STATEMENT. 219 

self. Then the other girl was taken sick and died. William 
went to the undertaker's and got a coffin, and carried it home 
on his shoulders, as he was not able to hire it done. And we 
put the last little girl in the tomb. We were in debt and could 
not get the money to pay with, and work was hard for me, and 
we were both discouraged. I concluded to come to Biddeford 
to get work in the mill, and that is why we are here. When I 
go in the mill I have to lock the room so they wont disturb 
William until I get back. O sir, it is hard times with us.' This 
was Mary's explanation. I looked round, there was no medi- 
cine, no, nothing to make a poor sick man comfortable. I went 
and got some provision and a few groceries out of my own 
funds for my sick comrade. Poor William got up in his bed 
and sat up, and prayed such a prayer as I never heard, and then 
said, 'O drill-master, Mary did not tell you half our sorrows. 
I tried and tried to get a pension, but there was always some 
reason for delay ; some officer could not be found whose signa- 
ture was necessary; but, drill-master, I shall soon have my final 
discharge, and shall not need a pension in that land where I 
am going. I want you when I am dead to bury me beside my 
poor darlings,' and turning over on one elbow, he drew from 
under his pillow his discharge, and handed it to me. ' Here,' 
said he, 'is my discharge. I want you to get my pension if 
you can, and pay yourself first for your trouble, and then my 
funeral expenses. Mary, will you listen to my last request, 
and see that I want drill-master Ambler to be paid for all his 
trouble, and for all he pays out for my sickness and funeral 
expenses, and the balance to you,' to which she assented. 

I went to Portland, and asked Mr. Drummond to endeavor 
to get William's pension, carrying his papers with me ; but the 
same delay and putting off that William complained of contin- 
ued, although I urged his present condition and needs; and so 
again and again, while he lived, I tried, but certain officers 
were wanted to sign certain papers and they could not be 
found, until, vexed and disappointed, I took the discharge 



220 WILLIAM KELLY'S DEATH. 

papers home with me. I had no less than three doctors to 
see William, who did all in their power to save him, and they 
made him as comfortable as they could while he lived. 
Among them was Doctor Warren, who immediately recognized 
William as the man from whom he extracted the ball that 
passed through him. The doctor was very attentive to him 
while lie lived, and neither of the physicans would take a cent 
for- their care. I continued to care for him until one night, 
about midnight, the wife and his mother came for me, and said 
William was dying. 1 hastened with them to his house. The 
poor man had battled terribly against grim death, to try to live 
until I came, but in vain. And oh, such a sight 1 He had torn 
his bed in his dying agony, and, as I opened the door, lie lay 
dead, with his head hanging off the bed, his mouth open and 
tongrue out. The wife and mother screamed and ran from the 
house at the sight. I laid him tenderly down upon the floor, 
and went for some help. Meeting one of the j)olice, I asked 
him in ; but the sight was too terrible, and he would not stop. 
I laid him out, but could not close his mouth. I got a pillow 
and put it under his head, and while doing it both his eyes 
opened. I was startled and said, ' William, what is the matter?' 
and felt his pulse and found all was still. I closed his eyes and 
laid some coppers on them, and went in search of the trem- 
bling, frightened women, and when they came, such wails I sel- 
dom ever heard. I called in some of the rich to see how patriots 
were sometimes left to die in poverty and want. 

I buried William at my own expense, paying out fifty-nine 
dollars for funeral expenses alone, besides my time and travel- 
ing expenses. As William and the family were Catholics, I had 
him buried from the Catholic church, and mass said for him as 
usual with them. The soldier's organization, called the Grand 
Army, of Portland, when I reported to them, paid me fifteen 
dollars toward the expenses, and no doubt would have done 
more, but for the many calls which are made on them for help. 
Some seven dollars more was afterwards handed me by friends. 



HABD RAISING MONEY. 221 

After William had been buried some time, Mr. Drummond suc- 
ceeded in getting a pension for the widow, who quietly took it, 
but failed to remember William's last request, viz., that the ex- 
penses of his sickness and burial should first be paid from it. 
Query — when William was alive and I had his papers to pre- 
sent, how was it nothing could be done to relieve his wants by 
the way of a pension; when very soon after he was buried a 
pension could be got for his widow without his discharge 
papers ? 

Well, thank God, I did my duty, and feel satisfied to know 
that I helped to light my poor comrade down the dark way, 
through which we all must pass before we reach our final rest 
and reward. 

But to return. After the suggestions of my friends to ask 
government for pay, I concluded, on the whole, to petition Con- 
gress for pay for my services, or a pension, and to be reimbursed 
for the money I had paid out to support myself and family 
while at work for the country. The question now to be settled 
was, how to get the money to pay the bills. To hunt up the 
men whose signatures I wanted on my petition, and to go to 
Washington and present it personally, would cost me consider- 
able. I was bothered a good deal to raise money for the pur- 
pose. I thought of that old story of the rats, who held a con- 
ference one time to consider what was best to be done about the 
old tabby-cat who had intruded upon their haunts. After va- 
rious suggestions from some of the most venerable of these 
gentlemen long-tails, one smart young rat made a speech, advo- 
cating the putting of a bell on the cat, as that would give them 
due notice of her coming, so they could have abundance of 
time to scamper off to their holes. This brought down the 
house, especially the younger members of the house ; when a 
long-tailed, gray old fogy squeaked out his approbation of the 
main plan, stating, at the same time, that one little objection 
arose in his mind, and the longer he thought of it the more seri- 
ous it became, and he would state it in the form of a question; 



222 GETTING NAMES TO PETITION. 

and with a twinkle of his old eye, he asked, ' "Who will put the 
bell on ? ' and the meeting broke up in a row. I decided that 
I must have some money ; that was young America ; but the 
provoking question how to get it well-nigh broke up everything. 
I tried a long time, but folks did not like a second mortgage. 
At last, by paying extra interest, I got a loan of $400 by giving 
another mortgage on my little homestead. 

"It took me near six months to get the names I wanted to in- 
dorse my petition, for I did not mean to go off half-bent. My 
wife worked making bonnets and at dressmaking while I was 
working up my petition, and in this way we got our bread. I 
guess I ought to mention a little business matter here, to show 
how the devil takes the advantage of poor fellows like me when 
in a strait place. A runner came into our little dressmaking- 
shop and wanted wife to buy some lace collars. She refused to 
buy, telling him I was going to Washington and wanted every 
cent we could raise. * Oh,' said he, ' I don't want pay till he 
gets back ; you can take your own time.' And she bought them 
and a few other matters, some forty dollars' worth in all ; and 
as soon as I was off, he sued and took over $100 worth at whole- 
sale price from our little stock, and the stuff was sold at auc- 
tion for about twenty-five dollars for the whole, leaving poor 
wife seventy-five dollars out. 

Before I started for Washington, I used a considerable part 
of the money I had hired, and as I had now got my petition 
ready and was short, I hired sixty dollars more, for which I had 
to pay two dollars per month, or forty per cent, hoping my pe- 
tition, which I here introduce, would be a success, and then I 
could pay my debts. I think it was the strongest paper ever 
presented to the Military Committee. 

Petition — Sergeant I. W. Ambler, asking compensation 

FOR SERVICES RENDERED IN DRILLING TROOPS DURING THE 
WAR. 

To the Hon. Senate and House of Representatives, etc. : 
The undersigned, Sergeant Isaac W.' Ambler, respectfully 



PETITION TO CONGRESS. 223 

represents, that, having had long experience as a soldier and 
drill-master, he dedicated himself at the beginning of the late 
rebellion, to the instruction of soldiers and officers for the ser- 
vice of the United States, entering upon this work in Massa- 
chusetts the 15th of April, 1861 (the second day after the 
attack upon Fort Sumter), and continued to be so engaged in 
Massachusetts, Maine, and Virginia, until the 4th of April, 
1865, without any compensation therefor, either from municipal, 
State, or national authorities. 

During this time, Sergeant Ambler assisted largely in re- 
cruiting and drilling a very large number of men and officers 
in all branches of military tactics, which service he respectfully 
submits, was of far greater value to the government than any 
he could have rendered as a company officer merely. Sergeant 
Ambler was crippled in his left aiin by a bayonet wound, re- 
ceived while engaged in drilling, by which wound he has ever 
since been disabled, wherefore he prays, that your honorable 
bodies may pass a special act for his relief, authorizing his mus- 
ter into the United States service for the period above named, 
in the grade of First Sergeant, with pay and other allowance 
of that grade, and pension, or such other relief as may be 
deemed just and proper. 

Not having contemplated making any claim for the services 
at the time they were rendered, Sergeant Ambler presents such 
evidence only as is herein inclosed. 

1st. To establish the equity of his claim, the document signed 
by Hon. John Neal, Governors Chamberlain, Washburn, jr., 
Claflin, Stearns, Padelford, Goodwin, and Generals Hooker, 
Burnside, Fessenden, McClellan, Devens, Shepley, and others. 

2d. To establish dates as stated, the papers marked passes, 
letters, and newspaper extracts. 

3d. For proof of disability, etc., the certificate of Dr. Kim- 
ball, and citizens of Biddeford. 

All of which is respectfully submitted, 

I. W. Ambleb. 



224 TESTIMONIALS. 

January 24, 1872. 
Referred to the Committee on Military Affairs. Lynch. 

CERTIFICATES. 

Portland, Me., March 15, 1871. 

This may certify that I have personally known Sergeant I. 
W. Ambler ever since 1859, that I have always found him 
trustworthy, earnest, and laborious, a capital swordsman and 
drill-master, and gifted with uncommon natural eloquence, 
though uneducated, whereby he has been enabled to accomplish 
great results as a lecturer on temperance, and as a lay preacher. 
His services and sufferings in the late rebellion would entitle 
him to great consideration if they were known to our rulers, 
though technically he may have little to claim on the gov- 
ernment, his services being not only voluntary, but almost 
wholly gratuitous, and the injuries he has sustained, whereby 
he has lost many years of his life, suffered greatly, and been 
put to heavy charges, not having befallen him while in actual 
service. Nevertheless, as we are so largely indebted to him 
for instruction and example in the several regiments mentioned 
in his papers, it would seem that he has claims, which, if not 
legal and technical, are at least equitable, and ought not to be 
overlooked in this our day of reckoning and generous acknowl- 
edgment of such services as he has rendered our country. 

Entertainining these views, I do most heartily recommend 

him to the consideration of our national lawgivers, and to the 

President of the United States, and the Secretary of War. 

All which is respectfully submitted. 

John Neal. 

We, the undersigned, concur in the above representations, 
and hereby join in the recommendation. 

Joshua L. Chamberlain, late Moj. Gen. IT. S. Vols. 
James D. Fessenden, late Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols. 
Israel Washburn, Jr., Ex- Gov. of Maine. 
G. F. Shepley, U. 8. Judge, late Brig. Gen. U.S. Vols. 



TESTIMONIALS. 225 

Seth Padelford, Governor of Rhode Island. 
William Claflin, Governor of Massachusetts. 

It is with much pleasure as well as with a deep sense of duty 
that I write this commendation of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, 
drill-master, and fully concur with the accompanying recom- 
mendations. I personally and intimately knew Sergeant Am- 
bler in the Army of the Potomac in the autumn of 1861 ; how 
hard and successfully he labored to drill the raw officers in 
sword, and soldiers in musket and skirmish exercises, particu- 
larly in my Regiment, the Sixth Maine, and I remember 
instances in which his courageous example and soldierly bear- 
ing was of great service to our troops which had not been under 
fire, as for instance, the affair of Lewinsville, Va., under General 
Smith. Sergeant Ambler was the man selected to bear the 
colors of the Sixth Maine through Baltimore, when the regi- 
ment was on its way to Washington, and when an attack by 
the mob was expected; — received great injury by poisoned food 
in Havre de Grace, etc., etc. I remember, also, that for his hard 
and valuable services in 1861 he received no compensation; 
that he was subsequently broken and crippled in body for life 
in his efforts to aid the Union cause, as his many scars to-day 
will testify, etc. I will only say more, that as I know what I 
above stated is true, I most earnestly hope a just and grateful 
country will acknowledge and reward his services. 

Z. TnoMPsoN, Chaplain 6th Maine RegH, 1861-62. 

I know Sergeant Ambler well, and have done so for many 
years. Without pay or position, he rendered me important aid 
in drilling company officers, mostly new and green, in my com- 
mand, as they came into camp from their various localities. 
Neal Dow, late Brig. Gen. XI. S. Vols. 

I know Sergeant Ambler. He drilled many officers under 
my command. I concur fully in the recommendations above. 
Chas. Devens, Jr., late Brev. Maj. Gen. XI. S. Vols. 
15 



226 TESTIMONIALS. 

I am not personally acquainted with Sergeant Ambler, but 
from my knowledge of the persons whose names are above 
subscribed, I think him entitled to consideration. 

Onslow Stearns, Gov. of N~. H. 

I am glad to concur in the above recommendations favorable 
to Sergeant Ambler. 

A. E. Burnside, Maj. Gen. XI. 8. A. 

I concur in the above recommendations. 

J. Hooker, Maj. Gen. U. S. A. 

Having long and favorably known Sergeant Ambler, I fully 
concur in the foregoing recommendations. 

Ichabod Goodwin, Ex- Gov. of N. H. 

From the above indorsements I feel certain that Sergeant 
Ambler is entitled to great consideration, and if any irregulari- 
ty exists in regard to his muster in, it would seem to be the duty 
of our lawgivers to fully reimburse him, and pay for his services. 
Wm. Cogswell, late Brig. Gen. 77. S. A. 

I know Sergeant Ambler as an instructor of troops and a 
teacher of the sword, and am happy to concur in the above 
recommendations. 

Francis Fessenden, Brig. Gen. U. S. Army. 

I have read the papers in this case, and although I have no 
personal knowledge of the matter, I am satisfied that Sergeant 
Ambler is fairly entitled to the generous consideration of the 
authorities for valuable services rendered during the war, and 
that it is a case wherein technical objections, if such exist, ought 
not to stand in the way of ample recompense being awarded him. 
Geo. B. McClellan, late Maj. Gen. XI. S. A. 

I concur in the recommendations of Generals McClellan, Hook- 
er, Burnside, and others. 

C. C. Meade, Maj. Gen. U. S. A. 



TESTIMONIALS. 227 

January 22, 1872. 
I have known Sergeant Ambler personally and by reputation 
for many years, and I have no doubt that he is eminently deserv- 
ing the aid and relief he seeks. His services and his sufferings 
alike, entitle him to this recognition. 

J. G. Blaine, /Speaker of the House of Representatives. 

Washington, D. C, Jan. 23, 1872. 
I have been acquainted with Mr. I. W. Ambler for many 
years, as city missionary in Biddeford, Maine, and while in the 
service of the United States, as drill-sergeant, during the late 
war. Mr. Ambler came to my rooms, in this city, some time in 
August, 1861, disabled from sunstroke, and remained with me 
until he was able to return to the field. Learning that he is about 
to apply to Congress for compensation for his services in de- 
fense of the Union, I deem it a duty, as well as a pleasure, to 
earnestly commend him to that honorable body as a gen- 
tleman worthy of confidence, and, in my judgment, entitled to 
relief. D. E. Somes. 

Portland, Me., 14th August, 1871. 
I, J. Pierrepont Neal, Justice of the Peace and Quorum of 
the County of Cumberland, Maine, residing in the city of Port- 
land, do hereby certify that the foregoing are true and correct 
copies of letters and testimonials in the possession of I. W. Am- 
bler, which he has shown to and which have been carefully ex- 
amined and compared by me with the foregoing. 

J. Pierrepont Neal, J~.JP.SQ. 

Biddeford, Maine. 
Sergeant I. W. Ambler proposes to leave us for a season ; 
and we the undersigned cannot permit him to go without bear- 
ing willing testimony to his Christian character and fidelity, as 
a good missionary among the poor of this place. He has been 
abundant in labors for their good ; ministered to their wants, 



228 TESTIMONIALS. 

reclaimed many inebriates, kindly expostulated with sellers of 
liquors, and persuaded them to give up their traffic ; visited 
the sick, consoled the dying, gathered at one time about one 
hundred and seventy little ones into a most interesting mission 
school, and the good people of Biddeford clothed the most of 
them. He has preached the glad tidings frequently, and to 
many in season and out of season. 

Mr. Ambler is an accomplished military tactician, having seen 
long service in foreign lands, and when the news came in 1861 
that his adopted flag had been insulted, and that it no longer 
waved from Sumter, he immediately left the pulpit for the 
drill-room, giving his whole time, without remuneration, to the 
instructions- of officers and men, laboring in Maine, Massachu- 
setts, and Virginia; giving his whole time and energies to aid 
the cause of freedom, regardless alike of fatigue and personal 
comfort; and by so doing has been made a cripple for life, thus 
depriving himself and family of those comforts which otherwise 
they might have enjoyed. 

Mr. Ambler is a reformed man ; he has gone through all this 
war and touched not, handled not, tasted not, any intoxicating 
liquors. 'He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that taketh 
a city.' 

Leonard Andrews. 

Charles Hardy. 

Rev. John Stevens, Freewill Baptist Minister, 

James M. Palmer, Pastor 2d Cong. Church, 

Chas. Tenney, Pastor Pavilion Church. 

E. H. Banks, Merchant. 

J. Hubbard, Jr., Pastor Baptist Church. 

Charles A. Shaw, Mayor. 

Alvan Bacon, M. D. 

Dryden Smith, M. D. 

Wm. Yeoman, Pastor Free Baptist Church. 

Wm. Berry, Police Judge. 

Abel H. Jelleson, Judge Municipal Court. 



A PAPER PUFF. 229 

G. N. Weymouth, Attorney at Law. 

Wm. P. Haines, Treasurer of Pepperell Mills. 

R. M. Chapaian, Cashier Biddeford, Me., Bank. 

Horace Piper, High School Teacher. 

C. C. Mason, Pastor M. E. Church, Saco. 

Sergeant Ambler, who, it will be remembered, rendered most 
efficient service not only during the early days of the late rev- 
olution, but through the long years of terrible warfare, drilling 
thousands of our officers and men in the sabre and bayonet ex- 
ercise, then eagerly pressing to the front, and who, since the 
first sound of the bugle note calling patriots to arm themselves 
for the conflict, devoted the whole of his time to the service of 
his country, is in this city. It will be remembered this excel- 
lent drill-officer was for many years an English soldier. Leav- 
ing his native country for an adopted one, he gave his time, 
money, and health to sustain the principles of our own free gov- 
ernment, and in so doing received several terrible wounds, one 
of which — a musket and bayonet thrust — forever disables the 
use of his left hand. 

Unfortunately Sergeant Ambler has no legal claim upon the 
government, because he was not mustered into service as a sol- 
dier, "but he was one who protected our flag through the streets 
of Baltimore immediately after the brave Sixth Massachusetts 
had led the way for brave and noble men to follow. Such men 
should never suffer. 

One prominent trait on the part of this unselfish man has 
been no meanness displayed in asking or receiving remunera- 
tion for his teaching. Whole companies have gone into action, 
every man of which was indebted to our generous friend for 
months of service on his part. 

Sickness, long and painful, is the cause of his present adver- 
sity. Expense has caused him to sacrifice everything he had 
except honor, patriotism, and a devoted Christian character, 



230 4 PAPEB PUFF. 

and hence he appeals to a generous government for that help 
sufficient only to enable him to obtain the necessities of life. 

Sergeant Ambler, it must be remembered, in battle faced the 
enemy, fighting as bravely as the best and most devoted soldier 
in our ranks. Shall not such proof of attachment and such un- 
selfish devotion to our interests be rewarded by a reasonable 
return on our part. — Boston Journal. 



CHABGE ON WASHINGTON. 231 



CHAPTER XXX. 



Witii such a document, backed by governors and generals 
and other good men, and such testimonials of well-known cler- 
gymen, I felt very certain, that with such a formidable battery, 
I could carry an enemy's works as soon as I un limbered in 
Washington for action, and what had I not reason to expect 
from friends and patriots at the capitol ? Representatives and 
senators, on whose burning words of patriotism and love of 
country, listening multitudes had often hung in wondrous rap- 
tures, If I had been a betting man I should have put ten to 
one, that I should have succeeded. I went with my head up 
and should have laughed at the man who should have proposed 
to charge me one per cent to insure me. Getting into Wash- 
ington, I put up at the Franklin House, and after getting the 
dust and dirt out of my throat and eyes, so to get into condi- 
tion to reconnoiter the ground, I started out, and charged down 
on some of the clerks at the government buildings, for the pur- 
pose of getting an introduction to some of the leading officials, 
when, to my astonishment, they stared at me, and drew off as 
if I were a hot potato, or something of the kind, that might 
burn them if they touched me, or were found in my company. 
This reception was novel to me; but I got it through my head 
at last, why it was so ; and I rather pitied them, for it seemed 
to me that they felt compelled to go on the principle of non 
commitamus to save their heads, and so had generally adopted 
in practice the old proverb, ' every man for himself, and the 
d — 1 take the hindmost.' I knew there was one man, at least, 
from Maine, who cared for the soldier. And I went to him 



232 STAVING THINGS OFF. 

(Speaker Blaine), and he added his name to my petition, and 
told me to go to Mr. Lynch, a representative from my district, 
whose duty it was to attend to the petitions of his constituents, 
and he had no doubt the Hon. gentleman would lay it before 
the Military Committee at once, and urge them to report a bill 
for my relief. I went to Mr. Lynch and stated my case. He 
told me it would have to go before the Military Committee, 
and^I must be present when it was laid before them, and he 
told me when he was ready, he would send for me. Well, that 
looked well, and I waited patiently three weeks for Mr. Lynch 
to send for me, but he did not do so. I then went to Speaker 
Blaine and told him how my case was neglected, and Mr. Blaine 
took me before the committee himself at their next session. I 
was questioned about my service, etc., and was requested to be 
present at their next meeting. They were holding their sessions 
now every two or three days. I went to the next meeting, and 
the next, and the next, until I had followed them up for three 
months, and it always happened that something else must be 
acted upon before my case could be reached. At last Mr. 
Marcy, one of the committee, told me he had searched all the 
books to find something to meet my case ; but utterly failed to 
do so. I said to him, ' Sir, I did not come before your honora- 
ble body, expecting you to find a law to meet my case, but to 
set before you the facts, that you might report a bill which, 
when passed by Congress, would meet it, and give me relief.' 
And I referred him to my passes, to newspaper reports and my 
petition, and the signatures of honorable gentlemen recom- 
mending me and my claims upon government for compensation 
in some form. He told me newspaper extracts were not relia- 
ble. I told him I did not base my matters on them, they were 
simply confirmatory of the statements and recommendations 
of honorable gentlemen, well-known to him and the country, 
and so far as the newspapers were concerned, I did not know 
what^vould have become of the country, if it had not been for 
them during the war. This ended my meetings with the Mili- 
tary Committee. 



BROKER'S PROPOSAL. 233 

About this time, a gentleman came to me — pardon me for 
using the term — and said he was well-known in Washington, 
and had done a good deal of business of this kind, and had 
been very successful in securing pensions, etc., and he would 
guarantee to get a pension for me, if I would pay him two 
thousand dollars. I told him I had no funds. He said it was 
bad for me ; but finally offered to get it for one thousand. I 
told him I could not pay it, for I did not have it, and could not 
raise it. Then said he, l you carft get it. The Committee won't 
report a bill in your favor,' which I found to be the case. I 
don't presume the fellow had any collusion with them however; 
but he was a regular lobbyist, and knew something of move- 
ments generally at head-quarters. My case reminded me of 
the saying of one of Massachusetts' noted criminal lawyers, the 
celebrated Rufus Choate, when applied to to defend a man 
charged with murder. The first question he put to the man 
soliciting his services was, 'Has he got any money?' When 
told he was a poor man, — 'What,' says Choate, 'a poor man 
with no money, and charged with murder ! There is no hope 
for him, sir.' Not that I had been charged with crime, and no 
money; but this lobby member told me that without money, I 
could not have a bill reported in my favor. 

I went to Speaker Blaine and told him the offer that was 
made me, and asked his advice. He said, ' Mr. Ambler, don't 
you pay a dollar. If you have not done enough for the coun- 
try for a little pension, throw your papers to the four winds. 
You go and tell the Military Committee if they will report a 
bill in your favor I will pass it through the House without any 
trouble. You go and see the president of that committee, Gen- 
eral Coburn, and also General Slocum, and tell them so.' I 
went eleven times before I could have an interview with either 
of them. The servant saying they were not at home. A habit 
very common, I am told, in this country, when the lady of the 
house don't want to receive company; and I won't say it is not 
true of my native land. I made up my mind to try a little 



234 A LITTLE DODGE. 

Yankee dodge, and see if that would not bring them home; so 
the servant's usual 'not at' home ' might be reversed. I went to 
my good friend Blaine, and got permission to bear his compli- 
ments to the gentlemen, and the next day presented myself at 
the door and handed the servant the following card : * I. W. Am- 
bler with Speaker Blaine's compliments.' The servant smiled, 
and bowed, and took the card to the honorable gentleman, who 
ordered the servant to show me up. So my reader will see 
how to define the term, 'not at home.' In justice to these gen- 
tlemen I will say, that I was received kindly, and informed that 
at that time they were settling some land matters that would 
require perhaps a month's time, and could attend to nothing 
else until that work was concluded, and they advised me to 
wait in Washington until that was off their hands. Oh, how 
little do men in easy circumstances realize the sufferings such 
delays occasion to a poor man ! Here I was, in poverty, hang- 
ing at the government doors, my bill running up at the hotel, 
and money all gone, when a simple recommendation to the 
favorable consideration of Congress, that they could have 
written out and signed in thirty minutes, would have sent sun- 
shine into my poor heart and home. About this time, my good 
friend Dr. Kimball, of Saco, sent me fifty dollars, which greatly 
encouraged me. God bless his big heart, may he never know 
what it is to want; and he sent me the following kind note : 

Saco, April 11, 1872. 
Friend Ambler, — I intended to have written before, but 
lack of time is the reason why I have not. I am sorry you 
have been so bothered with your business. I truly believed, 
that your case was so plain that but a very little time would 
suffice to settle the whole affair ; and it is a mystery to me that 
this should be delayed. The great thing in law is proof, and I 
think if that is necessary in your case, you have enough to sat- 
isfy any reasonable mind upon the subject. I am glad you still 
persevere, and as you are there, I would stick till the last gun 



LETTERS. 235 

was fired. It docs seem to me that you will succeed ; that 
right will triumph. There is nothing new here at present. I 
am obliged to you for your letters and papers. And now hop- 
ing and believing in your success, I remain 

Truly yours, J. E. L. Kimball. 

P. S. Shall be glad to hear from you, and shall hope to hear 
good news. 

Such kind letters were like balm to me in this long struggle. 
Whether I intended to ' slick? as the doctor advised, will be 
seen by the following letter sent to him. 

Washington, D. C, 1872. 
Dr. Kimball : 

My Dear Sir, — I pray that you will excuse me for not writing 
sooner. I have been waiting on the committee to see what they 
would do in my case, so that I could write to you and tell you 
something definite. I have been battling with the Military 
Committee ever since I wrote you. They have come to tho 
conclusion that I did great service in the late rebellion ; but 
they say if they pass my bill, they arc afraid that it will open 
a door for others. I told them if they could find a man who 
had gone through as much as I had, having entered the service 
on the 15th of April, 1861, occupying the position of drill-mas- 
ter, also doing active service in the field, and being crippled for 
life, — yes, and your government recognized me as a soldier by 
giving me passes to and fro, — I would not press my claim. I 
went and told Speaker Blaine what the Military Committee had 
told me. Speaker Blaine said, ' What do we care about open- 
ing doors! let us have justice? And he told me to go and tell 
them from him, that if they would pass my claim, that he would 
pass it through the House without any trouble. I Avent and 
told them personally what Speaker Blaine had said, and they 
told me they would let me know in a few days what they would 
do. 



236 PURPOSE TO STICK. 

Doctor, if it had not been for your assistance, I could not 
have battled them up to the present time. A congressman told 
me the other day, that the committee was going to keep me 
here till all my money was gone, and then I should be glad to 
go home. I told him I would have an answer from the com- 
mittee, yes or no, if I had to stay in Washington till hunger 
sets upon my cheek, and starvation glared from my eye-balls. 
I left home with no clothes, only what I had on my back, and 
now I can see necessity fluttering round my ragged robe. 
Adieu, — I am too fall to say more. 

I. W. Ambler. 

It will be seen that my purpose was to stick until something 
was done; but the best of us cannot always bear up into the 
wind's eye without shaking our sails, and making some lee-way. 
My anxiety began to wear on me, and while waiting, and back- 
ing and filling for months, I was taken sick, and confined to my 
room at my hotel. For four days, nobody came to my room 
but the servant, and I could not get even a cup of tea, weak as 
I was, unless I took it at meal-time. 

My friend Shepherd, on whom I had frequently called, missed 
me and called to see me, and seemed surprised to find me sick. 
He went and brought me some oranges, and kindly offered me a 
home with him if I would accept it ; but his wife being sick, I 
could not think of doing so ; as like myself, in some measure, 
he was a soldier and did not revel in wealth, and could ill afford 
additional expense on my account. He insisted on my taking 
five dollars to help me along a little, as he expressed it. I did 
not want him to know how hard up I was, and having used up 
all my funds, I concluded to send for the president of the Young 
Men's Christian Association, and let them know how matters 
stood with me. I had attended some of their meetings, and 
spoke in several of them, and I thought they might, in a quiet 
way, render me some service, or help me to some funds until I 
could repay them. He came to see me, and I told him how I 



GETTING INTO CATHOLIC HOSPITAL. 237 

was situated, money all gone, business unfinished, and already 
in debt to the landlord. 

I was coolly advised to leave my valise, etc., in the landlord's 
possession for my bills, and go to the Providence Hospital. I 
did not know who were the patrons of this institution at the 
time. I did not leave my valise with the landlord ; but I gave 
him my watch and chain for my bills. This gentleman got me 
a permit to go to this hospital, and handed it to me in an en- 
velope, which I did not open until I reached there. Judge ye 
of my astonishment, when I found my good Protestant brother 
had got me into a Catholic institution, managed by the sistqrs 
of charity. This seemed rather a shrewd operation, for the 
Young Men's Christian Association, and I concluded if the 
president managed all their affairs as carefully, to save expense 
to them, as he did in my case, they might have some funds in 
their treasury. I handed the envelope containing my permit 
to one of the sisters in charge. On reading it she remarked, 
Why sir, you are only a pauper; a gentlemanly-looking man 
like you ought to pay six dollars per week, as some of the 
others do here, and I could give you a better room, and some- 
thing better to eat than you can have now.' I told her I had no 
money, and she would have to put me into the pauper's ward. 
My first night here satisfied me that this was not my home. I 
had a consumptive on each side of me, who coughed the live- 
long night. In a day or two, I took French leave of the good 
sisters, for I had strong objections to dying a pauper. When a 
boy, I heard a song called i the pauper's funeral,' one line of 
which always grated on my ear, where it spoke about ' rattling 
his bones over the stones.' When I got out on the sidewalk, I 
got a man to help me on to the car, and went to General But- 
ler's head-quarters, and got a permit to go to the Freedmen's 
Hospital, connected with the Howard University, designed for 
the care mainly of old and decrepid negroes. When I got 
there, I was very ill with a hemorrhage from the bowels, and I 
felt gloomy and forsaken. I got some rest, and had the kindest 



238 CBITIC1SING SOLOMON. 

treatment from the physicians in charge when they found out 
who I was, and I soon felt much better. I was sustained by an 
abiding faith in the protection of God, who had watched over 
me thus far in life, and who had stood by me in every trial and 
adversity, and this led me to hope for better days. I had been 
trying hard for an education since my conversion, and I made 
rapid strides in one department of knowledge at the Capital. 
I learned more of human nature, during my sojourn here, than 
ever I expected to learn in life, and many things I was sorry to 
learn. 

Solomon had said, * By long forbearing is a prince persuaded, 
and a soft tongue breaketh the bone,' and I had been faithfully 
practicing on this very principle for several months, and won- 
dered why I did not succeed, and I came pretty near falling 
into a skeptical frame of mind; but I happened to think, that 
brother Solomon had never been to Washington with a petition, 
if he had, he would have made an exception to this rule. But 
Solomon was right when he said, 'Confidence in an unfaithful 
man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth, and a foot out of 
joint,' and when I looked on a little further, and read, 'Every 
man is a friend to him that giveth gifts. All the brethren of 
the poor do hate him; how much more do his friends go far 
from him? He pursueth them with words, yet they are want- 
ing to him. The poor useth entreaties ; but the rich answereth 
roughly.' I said, that's true anyhow, for I have learned that 
lesson from A to Z. It is pretty hard to eat with a broken 
tooth, or to travel with any comfort on a foot out of joint; yet 
I had tried to eat and travel too, upheld all through these 
months of waiting with * a strange belief, that leaned its idiot 
back on folly's topmost twig ; a lazy, over-credulous faith that 
leaned on all it met, nor asked if 'twas a reed or oak ; ' but 
facts of experience drove this ignis-fatuus thoroughly from 
my mind, and the naked truth burst upon me while lying sick 
here in this hospital, that I must depend upon God and I. W. 
Ambler and his wife for our bread ; and I decided to go home 
as soon as I got able. 



GETTING MY BACK UP. 239 

In some three weeks I got out, and went to the Military Com- 
mittee for my papers, as I did not want them to remain in their 
hands. These testimonials of my friends I wanted to preserve, 
so if I could leave nothing else to my children, I could leave an 
honorable record of which they might be proud when my poor 
bones slept in the dust. General C. told me to go to General 
M.. and he said go to Mr. D., and the latter sent me to Mr. L., 
and L. told me that Mr. B. would get them. Ambler's back 
was up about this time. It seemed to me that there was a 
chance about getting even my papers back, and I straightened 
myself up, and said, ' Mr. L., I'll have those papers before I leave 
Washington, or I'll be a dead man, and somebody with me,' 
and, '•■mirabile dictu] in ten minutes after this brief speech, Mr. 
L. beckoned to me, and General C. handed him the papers say- 
ing, with an upturned nose, * Brother L., here are those docu- 
ments,' and L. passed them to me. I confess that I was in a 
passion when I made that speech, and I beg Mr. L.'s pardon, and 
I am pretty sure he will grant it, on reflection, for I had been 
chafing under the delay of months, until it had eaten up all my 
patience, and substance too ; but I meant all that I said at the 
time, and as much more as the reader has a mind to put to it. 
Therefore this confession. My next thought was how to get 
home, for I had no money. Some of my friends thought it 
would be good for my health to take a trip down the Alleghany, 
as far as Pittsburg. I went to Speaker Blaine again, who always 
encouraged and comforted me, and told him how things were, 
and he wrote a letter to ex-secretary Scott, who gave me a pass 
to Pittsburg. After I got my pass, I read the letter that Mr. B. 
had written. It so overflowed with sympathy for me, and set 
forth my condition so truthfully, that it touched me in a tender 
place, and I lost my mind. What intervened for a day or two 
I have no knowledge ; but when I came to myself, I was back • 
in the Freedmen's Asylum. I soon got out, and thought it un- 
safe to go down to Pittsburg in my state of health. I decided 
to get home as soon as I could, and I called on General Butler, 



240 MEETING IN WASHINGTON. 

who very kindly furnished me the following pass * to Maine ; 
but I had no money to get me anything to eat on the road. It 
may be asked, why these officials did not furnish it. I wish to 
say here, that I was not a beggar, and I did not tell them I 
wanted money for that purpose. They were very kind to me, 
and if my pride had not kept me from telling them, they would 
have generously responded. I could ask them for a pass be- 
cause that came out of the government which was my debtor ; 
but I did not want them all to know just how snug on the wind 
I was running. Some of my friends wanted a speech before I 
left, and I caught at it as a good way to raise the ' wind,' and 
notice was given for a meeting in a hall on Pennsylvania ave- 
nue. A good number attended. I told them I must speak as 
I felt. I had just got out of the hospital, and had been read- 
ing the following in the National Republican, published at 
Washington, March 28, 1872 : 

Are Republics Ungrateful ? Ed. Republican, — The aph- 
orism which gave rise to the above query, and which has been 
so often asserted, and as frequently denied, seems to have found 
a practical demonstration in one case, at least, on the negative 
side ; and it would seem that a defender of the nation, who 
had made almost unparalleled sacrifices, prompted by the in- 
spiration of duty alone, and had left the country's service, after 
years of most arduous toil, sufferings, and hardships, a maimed, 
crippled, and helpless man, should, in justice, be entitled to, at 
least, as great a consideration as the man who served his ninety 
days and received never a wound, and saw never a battle. 

Such is the condition of Sergeant I. W". Ambler, personally 
and intimately known to the writer while in the army, whose 

* Washington, April 16, 1872. 
Please furnish transportation from Washington to Biddeford, Me., for I. W. Am- 
bler, a Volunteer Soldier, disabled by injuries, en route to the Military Asylum, and 
render account of the same to General Wm. S. Tilton, Treasurer of the Military Asy- 
lum at Augusta. To the agent of the B. & O. R. R. at Washington. 

Benj. F. Butx.ee, Manager N. A. D. V. S. 



• WHAT THE PAPER SAID. 241 

long personal service and experience in the English army pre- 
pared him for the duties of a drill-officer of very superior abil- 
ity. At the commencement of the war he was a city missionary 
in Biddeford, Maine. Two days after the first firing on Fort 
Sumter, he entered upon the work of instructing officers and 
soldiers in drill and tactics in Massachusetts, and continued his 
labors in Maine — accompanying the Sixth Maine Regiment to 
Virginia in July, 1861. When the regiment marched through 
Baltimore with bayonets fixed and loaded muskets, in anticipa- 
tion of an attack, Sergeant Ambler was requested by Colonel 
Burnham to take charge of the colors of the regiment, which 
he did, and bore them safely through the city. 

During the stay of the regiment at Chain bridge, in what- 
ever, active service they»were required to go, Sergeant Ambler 
was ever among the foremost, and has been seen to snatch a 
musket from the hands 'of an inactive sentry and press to the 
front, amid cheers and cries of l Bully for Ambler!' He re- 
mained with the regiment, doing constant and most arduous 
duty as drill-master, and instructing the officers in the sword 
and the soldiers in bayonet exercise, often volunteering to go 
on picket duty, and passing the night on picket line, displaying 
on each and every occasion indomitable energy, activity, and 
unfaltering courage. In August, 1861, he was prostrated by a 
sun-stroke, from which he suffered extremely for many weeks, 
but returned to his labors as soon as able to be in the field, re- 
turning to Maine to recruit, where he continued with his won- 
derful energy and activity drilling the Thirteenth, Fifteenth, 
Sixteenth, Twenty-first, Twenty-third, and Twenty-fifth Maine 
Regiments, and First Maine Cavalry, besides hundreds of offi- 
cers and soldiers in Massachusetts. 

While giving instructions in bayonet exercise he received 
a severe and ugly wound, which shattered his left wrist, but 
with Spartan-like heroism, he lashed his arm behind his back, 
and continued with untiring energy to give instructions in 
fencing with his right hand, until an accident disabled that also. 
16 



242 THE SAME. * 

And this man, who has testimonials of the highest order from 
Generals McClellan, Meade, Burnside, Hooker, Chamberlain, 
Keal Dow, Cogswell, Fessenden, Shepley, Devcns, and from 
Governors Claniii, of Massachusetts ; Padelforcl, of Rhode Is- 
land; Stearns, of New Hampshire; ex-Governors "Washburn, 
of Maine; Goodwin, of New Hampshire, and a host of judges, 
lawyers, doctors, and clergymen, and who has been maimed 
ami permanently disabled in the cause of liberty and right, has 
never received from the government a single penny of compen- 
sation, or other recognition than the granting of railroad passes. 

Here wo have a man who has given years of the best part 
.of his life with a patriotism almost uneqnaled in history ; has 
•given his arm, which is forever useless, and has rendered ser- 
vices far more valuable to the army and the cause than he could 
have done as an officer of the line ; he has fought and bled for 
the Union, the country of his adoption ; but never having been 
mustered into the army as a soldier, has not and cannot receive 
pay for his services without special legislation from Congress; 
and he now modestly asks that Congress will allow him to be 
mustered in with the rank only of sergeant, in order that he 
may receive compensation for his labors and sacrifices. The 
only objection made by any one to this act of justice, is that it 
will be made a jn-ecedent for others. 

The writer was with Sergeant Ambler while in the Sixth 
Maine Regiment, and can testify from intimate acquaintance, 
association, and personal practical experience of his uniform 
energy, activity, and proverbial courage; also of the most ex- 
cellent moral influence exercised by him over the soldiers in a 
moral, religious, and temperance point, and of his kind-hearted 
and generous labors among the sick and suffering, as also will 
be heartily and gratefully affirmed by every member of the 
regiment 

In Heaven's name, if there are others who have sacrificed 
and suffered in the cause of freedom and the Union to such a 
degree as Sergeant Ambler has, let the { door be opened, and 



MY GREAT SPEECH. 243 

the suffering, starving patriots be allowed to come in and re- 
ceive relief adequate to tlieir services.' Let it be shown that 
there is one republic, at least, that can not only feel, but mani- 
fest that gratitude to her noble and heroic defenders in a more 
substantial manner than a mere hollow recognition. s. 

To be true to my promise to speak as I felt, of course I gave 
them a bad speech. I had not gone far before there was some 
disturbance, and I had to stop. One gentleman jumped up and 
handed me fourteen dollars, as a contribution from himself and 
wife, for telling the truth, as he said. This hushed them a lit- 
tle, and then followed cries of 'go on,' 'go on,' and on I went, 
telling them some things of which they were cognizant, ugly 
truths, and the more ugly because true. I told them I had seen 
men from Washington down in Maine and Massachusetts mak- 
ing speeches, who generally opened with, 'Fellow citizens, sol- 
diers, and comrades,' and who so overflowed with patriotism, 
and with their deeds of daring on the battle-field, that we al- 
most thought them angels created for the emergency, and who, 

'Watchful, unhired, unbribed, and uncorrupt, 
And party only to the common weal 
In virtue's awful rage, pleaded for right ; 
"With truth so clear, with argument so strong, 
With action so sincere, and tone so loud 
And deep, as made the despot quake behind 
His adamantine gates, and every joint 
In terror smite his fellow-joint relaxed ; 
Or, marching to the field in burnished steel 
While, frowning on his brow, tremendous hung 
The wrath of the whole people, and led them on 
To trample tyrants down, and drive invasion back. 
While, still they held inferior place, in steadfast 
Rectitude of soul. Great their self-denial, and 
Great their cares, and great the service done to God 
And man.' 



244 DEWING A BARGAIN. 

And then I asked, what had they done ? They had never seen 
a battlefield, had never toiled for nought, could see the crippled 
soldier stand upon the corners of the streets with an empty 
cigar-box receiving the pennies from the passers by, while Priest 
and Levitc like, they would pass them by on the other side, so 
poor, oh, c poor as rats,' when calls like these appeared ! From 
such a stench arose that smelled to heaven, so that even the old 
mart in the moon, as he went sailing over the Capital at noon of 
night, would put his fingers on his nose lest his olfactory organs 
should be outraged. 

At this point, the meeting was disturbed again, and a man 
arose and asked what I would charge to stop, and it was pro- 
posed to give me fifty dollars to cork up my vials of wrath ; not 
that what I had said was untrue, but each wanted some chance 
to save his life, by escaping out of Sodom before I sank it utterly. 
Here was a good chance to drive a bargain. Wisdom dictated 
to me to avail myself of it, and dry up, as I had unlimbered my 
battery and charged on the enemy's works long enough to feel 
considerably relieved. The money was handed over, and with 
many a hearty shake of the hand I left. It was a curious meet- 
ing, a curious speech, a curious bargain, a success in raising a 
little money to pay my scot. Some paid because they valued 
the truth and the man that dared to speak it, and, I have no 
doubt, some herped to make up the fifty dollars to prevent my 
uncovering any more of the skeletons that were rotting about 
them. It put me in mind of the son of Erin, who was arrested 
on the charge of having committed a heinous crime, and dragged 
before the court without any one to plead his case. When he 
was ordered to stand up, and listen to the charge which had been 
brought against him, he made a great hulla-balloo, and excited 
considerable sympathy in the court, when the judge arose, and 
ordered him to compose himself, and be quiet,. assuring him that 
justice should be done him, which added a point to his sorrow, 
and he burst out, and said, 'If yer honor will allow me to say 
it, by me soule, its that same that I am afraid of.' 



MY EXCUSE. 245 

Reader, is it any wonder that I was a little bilious over tho 
way I had been treated by some of the parties at the Capital, 
enduring months of vexatious delay, and weeks of sickness in 
a hospital not the best that could be found, my hopes of help 
all cut off, knowing that this last effort had cost me all the mon- 
ey I had, and all I could raise, and now I must go home and 
tell my poor wife that we must be turned out of doors, and all 
would have to go to my creditors. Well, if you cannot excuse 
me, I can excuse myself, for I could not respect Sergeant Am- 
bler if he had not showed a little spirit then. 

I don't mean to be understood to say that many of our pub- 
lic servants at the head of the government are not as noble, 
generous, self-denying, upright, and sympathetic men as can be 
found on earth ; but these good patriots and statesmen are an- 
noyed to death with a set of toadies, little, mean, bargaining, 
selfish, unscrupulous scamps, who are often numerous enough, 
by taking advantage of little technicalities and games of stav- 
ing off, to clog the wheels of just legislation, an occasion often 
of painful and ruinous delay, and the course of such is cause 
often of unjust reflection upon intelligent and patriotic states- 
men. 



246 GETTING SOME COMFORT. 



CHAPTER XXXI 



The next morning, I shook off the dust of my feet as a testi- 
mony against the place, for the suffering, anxiety, and poverty 
that the five months spent in Washington had brought upon 
me, and bent my weary steps toward the depot, a sadder, but a 
wiser man than when I left home. On my lonesome way back 
to Maine, for it is the loneliest place in the world to be sur- 
rounded with a crowd of strange faces, either in the cars or on 
the thronged thoroughfare, I had a great many thoughts arise as 
to what I was made for, why I lived, what use I could make of 
all these strange and bitter experiences; and I said, if this is 
the training and drill that Heaven gives to fit me to battle for 
spiritual freedom for myself and others, O Gocl, put me through, 
so I can parry all the longes of Satan, and lit me to teach the 
heavenly drill to thy disciples, so I can lead them on to victory. 
I got happy with such meditations on the road, and never felt 
more like going through the whole war, under the great Cap- 
tain of our salvation, until the final muster for all hands to re- 
ceive an honorable discharge, and be welcomed where we shall 
walk the mount of bliss, that lifts its summit high, sublime in 
glory; talking with our peers of the incarnate Saviour's love, 
and past affliction lost in present joy. Oh, wondrous joy! a 
distant view of which makes pilgrims walk the billows of life's 
stormy seas, sublimely lifted up above all fear of sinking in 
their awful depths. How ashamed I felt to think I had ever 
murmured when thus I rode upon the wings of faith above all 
earthly things. Yet so it is sometimes. On arriving in Bos- 
ton, I met my wife, who passed me by, and would not have 



BATTLE WITH THE DEVIL. 247 

recognized me if I had not called her by name. I bad lost a 
little less than forty pounds in weight, pale and ragged, and after 
gazing a moment sbe rushed into my arms and burst into tears. 
We journeyed borne in company, telling each other on the 
way our several experiences. She, of the way our creditors had 
sued and seized our little effects in the shop, in which she was 
trying to make a living; and I, of what the reader already 
knows. Yet we were rich in each other's love, and the love of 
God, for were we not ' persuaded that neither death, nor life, 
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, 
nor tilings to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other crea- 
ture, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which i3 
in Christ Jesus our Lord.' 

My first business was to reconnoitre the ground, and throw 
up sueh works as my present weakened condition demanded, to 
prevent the enemy from carrying everything. I had lost some 
ground by giving way too much to ray poverty. The devil 
made a terrific charge in this direction, telling me 'what a poor 
miserable drunkard I had boon ; how little I had done since my 
conversion ; that I had published my follies in a book; that as 
an excuse for putting out a book I wanted to get money to ed- 
ucate myself with, and I had left the missionary work for the 
drill-room and the front; used up my little funds for other pur- 
poses; had accomplished nothing; and last, but not least, I had 
shown a soft spot in my head by presuming on anything in the 
shape of recognition and remuneration for anything done for 
the country; and now I had better come over to the old camp, 
and drink and enjoy myself, and let other folks look out for 
themselves.' I had a hard tussle with the old fellow, but I re- 
solved Ho fight it out on this line.' I plead guilty to all these 
charges but the last, which I denied ; for the people constitute 
the country, and when the facts are understood by them they 
will appreciate them and render a just verdict, and demand of 
their public servants that justice be done; and so I claimed 
that my head was level on that point, and what was required 



248 FIGHTING IT OUT. 

now was to 'wait for the wagon,' and Ambler 'would take a 
ride.' To the others on which I pled guilty, I argued justifi- 
cation. I am a great stickler for that blessing, and envy no- 
body when I am in possession of that. As to the first charge, 
of having been a drunkard, and published it also, I admitted it, 
and from that stand-point I made my strongest appeal ; having 
tasted the woes of the drunkard, I could reach them as no man 
could who had always lived a temperate life ; and so I said, Mr. 
devil, rum made me what I was, religion made me what I am; 
and through this experience I could lift up the poor drunkard. 
So this was turned into a chapter of power. Then my not having 
done but little, was a very good reason why I should do more 
still ; I thanked God that I had done a little, and I got some 
justification out of that. The reason also for putting out my 
first book, to get funds to educate myself with, was all true, 
and had I not, in the disposal of it, educated myself greatly 
into the mysteries of human nature, the very field of power and 
success, of which many theologians are ignorant, and without 
which no man can be successful. Why, the very greenness of 
these fledglings that talk so tenderly and reverently of their 
literary '•Alma-mater] makes them a butt of ridicule sometimes 
when they come in actual contact with live men of business 
and shrewd good common sense. The thinness of these shadowy 
men make them targets for many a practical shot. So if I can 
have only one of two things, viz., a smattering ol books, or an 
actual practical knowledge of men as we meet them, give me 
the latter, if I want to catch them in the gospel net. 

As for leaving the missionary work for the drill-room, I Avas 
sure that I could take the missionary or Christian work along 
with me. I locked upon it as right, yea, as Christian duty, to 
train men effectually to resist the devil, when he assumed the 
garb of rebellion, and if a Christian had not a weapon, and was 
bo short as to have to sell his coat to buy one, it was his duty 
to do it, and route the rebels at any cost ; so to save to poster- 
ity, to our children, the best government the sun ever shone 



FIGHTING BY PROXY. 249 

upon. What was there for them but this, where every man is 
the peer of his fellow, and even a ' rail-splitter ' can become a 
president, and honored and loved in life, and for whom when he 
dies, a whole nation mourns. He that for such a heritage, to 
sustain such a country, would not use his money, spill his blood, 
go maimed and crippled all his days, live and die in poverty, is 
unworthy the name of patriot. Now I flattered myself that I 
had done something for my country personally and by proxy ; 
my pupils were fighting in every battle, among the heroes on 
every victorious field. Their skill in the use of arms often at- 
tested this; and of their bravery, many a rebel had stinging 
proof, and honorable mention is made of their heroic deeds in 
the archives of the States. I had drilled thousands of officers, 
and probably ten thousand men, more or less, for this noble 
work. Let me give the record of one or two. Here is the ad- 
jutant-general's report of the noble Captain Reuel W. Furlong, 
of Calais, who entered the service July 15, 1861, as lieutenant 
of company D., Sixth Maine Regiment Infantry, and was after- 
wards promoted to captain, his rank dating March 17, 1863. He 
lost his life in the battle of the Rappahannock Station, Nov. 7, 
1864, after acquitting himself as a valiant and Christian hero. 
In this battle, he led one of the most brilliant charges of the 
war. The regiment at that time was merely deployed as skir- 
mishers, but drove an entire line of battle from their intren di- 
luents, and then held them. Up the ascent, across rifle-pits, 
and into the intrenchments, where it almost literally rained lead 
and iron, some portions of the time actually facing ten times 
its own number, the regiment went alone, and held the position 
until the Fifth Wisconsin went to its aid. Such was the scene 
in which the gallant Captain Furlong offered up his life. Ho 
had previously signalized himself at Ilagerstown, on the 12th 
of July, where, going beyond the skirmish line, with only twen- 
ty-four men, he made a charge on the enemy, killing and 
wounding twenty-one men and taking thirty-nine prisoners. 
With such acts, he made a bold, clear record, as a truly brave 



250 ^ BE AYE COUNTBYMAN. 

soldier and efficient officer.' This was the same man that I 
mentioned before as playing a clever trick on some rebs, when 
in company with myself we were going down from Chain bridge 
to Arlington, on the other side of the Potomac. I shall be 
pardoned by the reader for alluding to a countryman of mine, 
Captain John H. Ballanger, a brave soldier, who was in my 
company when we were serving under Wellington. 

He entered the army as a private when the rebellion first 
broke out, in April, 1861, at Machias. He was an ardent lover 
of his adopted country, and resolved to defend the stars and 
stripes without bounty or pledges of promotion. As soon as 
the company was organized he was chosen first lieutenant. The 
company was assigned to the Sixth Maine Volunteers as com- 
pany C. I had drilled him in the old country, and had continued 
to drill him with others of the Sixth Maine Volunteers in camp 
at Portland, and during my stay with the regiment in Virginia. 
I knew he was every inch a -soldier, and expected a good report 
from him. The adjutant-general shall tell the story. He writes 
thus of him, ' Having previously served several years in the 
English army, he had a most thorough knowledge of all the 
details of the service, and was therefore well-fitted for the dis- 
charge of every duty which devolved upon him. 

'In March, 1862, on the very clay that the army of the Poto- 
mac broke camp to commence active operations against the 
enemy for the first time, Lieutenant Ballanger was promoted to 
the command of his company. With it he landed at Old Point 
Comfort, in the latter part of the month, and marched up the 
Peninsula. He fought during the siege of Yorktown, and par- 
ticipated in the battle of Lee's Mills and Williamsburg, leading 
his company with ability and gallantry. He led it up the Pen- 
insula in the advance on Richmond, took part in the principal 
operations of the army in the vicinity of that city, and, during 
the " seven days' battles," fought with it at Garnett's Farm, Sav- 
age Station, and White Oak Swamp. Naturally of a sanguine 
and hopeful temperament, he endured hardships cheerfully, dis- 



HIS DEATH. 251 

played marked coolness and bravery in action, almost laughed 
at disaster, and despaired not in the least degree, even when 
the army arrived at Harrison's Landing, crippled and worn 
out. 

'When the tide of war surged into Maryland, Captain Bal- 
langer fought at the head of his company at Sugar Loaf Moun- 
tain, Crampton's Pass, and Antietam. Late in the autumn, he 
again marched into Virginia, and fought with his men at the 
battle of Fredericksburg. During the winter of 1862-3, he vis- 
ited his home on leave of absence for fifteen days, the only time 
he was absent from duty during his entire term of service. 

'When active operations were resumed in the spring of 1863, 
Captain B. with his regiment took part in the preliminary op- 
erations about Fredericksburg, being on the skirmish line with 
his company and hotly engaged with the enemy in a skirmish 
near Franklin's Crossing, May 2. He also led his company in 
the assault upon the heights of St. Mary, cheering them with 
unusual gallantry. 

'When half-way up the heights, however, and just as he was 
entering the first rifle-pit, a minie ball crashed through his 
brain, instantly terminating his patriotic and heroic career. 
After the enemy was routed and the works captured, his com- 
rades buried him where he had fallen, on the slope made sacred 
by his blood and that of many of his brave followers. The 
memory of his heroic deeds will be gratefully cherished by the 
loyal hearts of a redeemed nation.' 

Another pupil of mine w T as Brigadier-general Hiram Burn- 
ham, who entered the Sixth Maine Regiment and was elected 
lieutenant-colonel. This regiment was mustered in at Portland, 
July 15, 1861, and was ordered immediately to Washington, 
where it arrived July 19th, and was stationed at Chain bridge, 
a few miles above Washington. The command of the regiment 
devolved upon Lieutenant-colonel Burnham. I gave him a full 
course of instruction in all the various exercises in drill. The 
whole regiment was under my instruction at home and at Chain 



252 ^ WELL DRILLED PUPIL. 

bridge. I predicted brilliant things of Colonel B., on account 
of his quickness of perception of the different military move- 
ments, needed in charging and meeting the charges of the ene- 
my, and I never had a man develop so rapidly in drill, and the 
skill with which he performed the broadsword and bayonet ex- 
ercises, and going through the word of command, made him no 
mean antagonist for an expert to grapple with. The drill of the 
Sixth Maine Volunteers devolved entirely upon him after I left. 
It could not have been left in better hands, and the adjutant- 
general, in his report of General Burnham, writes thus: ' While 
the army of the Potomac remained in front of Washington, 
from October, 1861, to March, 1862, Colonel Burnham made 
good use of the time in drilling and disciplining his regiment, 
and when, at last, a movement was made by the way of the 
Peninsula, he had the reputation of commanding one of the 
most efficient organizations of the army? Here I think the 
drill-master can be tracked pretty plainly; but I must give you 
something more, for it is a shame that so little has been said of 
the glorious Sixth Regiment, and I know the reader will par- 
don me for bringing out something of the work of the Sixth 
Maine in its identification with General B. 

In the second battle of Fredericksburg, after crossing the 
Rappahannock, history says: 'Early in the forenoon the Fifth 
were relieved by the noble Sixth Maine and some other troops, 
who soon opened a severe and rapid fire upon the enemy. The 
fire was returned with energy. On the right, " Fighting Joe 
Hooker" had engaged the enemy, and had met with success. 

'Under the fire of the rebel batteries, Newton's and Burn- 
ham's regiments lay, some in the outskirts of the town, and 
some in the cemetery, until General Sedgwick gave the order 
to advance. When — almost at the same time, both the com- 
mands moved up the glacis toward the hights. The Seventh 
Massachusetts, and Thirty-sixth New York pushed forward up 
the telegraph road, against the stone-wall bearing to the right 
of the road. Their haversacks and knapsacks were left behind, 
that they might be unincumbered with useless burdens. As 



THE GLORIOUS SIXTH MAINE. 253 

they approached within about three hundred yards of the wall, 
a murderous volley checked the advance, and threw the head 
of the column into disorder. In two minutes the men were 
rallied, and again they approached the wall, nearer this time 
than before. A third time they rallied ! this time they pushed 
straight forward to the works. 

'Another column under Colonel Spear started briskly for- 
ward, divested like the others of knapsacks and haversacks. 
Marching from the town at double-quick in column of four 
ranks, they crossed the bridge just outside of the city, when 
its gallant leader received his mortal wound, and fell at the 
head of his men. The Sixty-first New York, which led the 
column, shocked at the death of their beloved leader, broke, 
and in confusion turned toward the town. This unfortunate 
confusion spread to the men of the Forty-third New York, 
who, checked by the disordered mass in their front, and sub- 
mitted to a galling fire, also commenced falling back; but 
speedily both commands rallied and bounded forward. They 
reached the hights soon after the columns on the right, captur- 
ing a gun and many prisoners. The Sixth Maine Regiment 
marched at the head of the columns in line of battle under 
Colonel Burnham, who advanced on the left of the road. 
Leaving everything behind them but their guns and ammuni- 
tion, they continued their advance on the enemy, encountering 
a shower of bullets, grape, and canister, as soon as they arose 
above the slight knoll which had partially concealed them. 

'The Fifth Maine looked with wondering admiration upon 
the advancing lines, and when they saw the Sixth Maine with 
their flag flying at the head of the columns, they cried out, 
'Our flag! our flag! 'tis the flag of the glorious Sixth Maine! 
hurrah ! hurrah ! " 

" Cheers, cheers for our soldiers, 
Rough, wrinkled, and brown, 
The men who make heroes 
And ask no renown ; 
Unselfish, untired, intrepid, and true, 
The bulwark surrounding the red, white, and blue." 



254 TERRIBLE SLAUGHTER. 

' The Sixth Maine was worthy of the position, its color-guard 
now hounding forward, now halting a moment for the men to 
come up, then dashing forward again in the storm of "leaden 
rain and iron hail," until finally gaining the hights, they planted 
their flag upon the summit, where the glorious stars and stripes 
waved, in triumph. It was a thrilling spectacle, and filled our 
hearts with pride. This light division had reason to be proud 
of its comrades, proud of the Sixth Maine, of its gallant boys. 
The light division secured, as trophies of this battle, over seven 
hundred prisoners, and five cannon. It was a glorious day for 
the Sixth Maine. Never was a charge more gallantly made; 
but it was, too, a sad day, for many hundreds of our brave com- 
rades lay stretched in death along the glacis, and on the steep 
ascent, in the ravines, and along the" road. More than three 
thousand wounded men were brought into the city before 
nightfall.' 

It is a very easy thing to talk of war ; but it is a very differ- 
ent thing to take part in it, or to view the field after it is all 
over, to see the mangled bodies lying in all directions, and in 
all positions as they fell, their bowels torn out with shot and 
shell, some with headless trunks, limbs torn off and broken, 
others covered with blood and dirt, their hands sometimes full 
of dirt, leaves, or twigs, which they had grasped in their dying 
struggles. Some with upturned faces, bespattered with blood, 
pale and ghastly, their sightless, but glaring eyes looking up to 
heaven as if in mute appeal, when the spirit took its flight. 
And many a moaning, suffering hero, lying terribly wounded 
on the field for days before he can be properly cared for. 

General Burnham gave me a description of the battle person- 
ally, only a few days before he went back to the front, where he 
fell a martyr to the cause of liberty and union. I shall never 
forget it, as he held me by the hand, when he said with a trem- 
ulous voice, showing that he felt the words he uttered in the 
depths of his soul, 4 Sergeant, I thank God Almighty for his safe 
deliverance from such a horrid scene, for a more terrible fire 



GENERAL BURNHAWS ACCOUNT. 255 

was never heard or witnessed than that which was opened upon 
us. We were actually under a cross fire ; guns in our front and 
on each flank filing down upon us from the heights as we 
marched along the glacis and up the steep ascent. The rebels 
poured down their shot upon us like hailstones. It seemed a 
providence of God that any one escaped, and, drill-master, the 
instructions you gave me seemed to ring in my ears, so I re- 
membered every step to be taken on a charge, and the word of 
command as plain as if it had been given but the day before, 
and as we charged up the heights I kept shouting to my men 
"steady boys, keep in line," and then ordered the boys to charge 
on their batteries. With only one fierce yell they dashed for- 
ward up to the muzzles of the rebel guns, and bayoneted them 
in their own batteries. I remembered you and your drill when 
I saw the boys fighting hand to hand with the rebels in close 
quarters, stabbing one another with their bayonets, the blood 
spouting over their firelocks until they were so covered and 
slippery with blood that they had to grip them hard to keep 
their held, and I frequently gave the word of command, 
"Steady, boys, keep cool." And as the rebs thickened on one 
side, and then on the other, in their vain attempts at rallying, 
I would command, "On the right, shorten!" "On the left, 
shorten!" "Thrust!"* "Charge!" "Butt to the front!" 
" Strike ! " ' f 

Reader, every officer in this regiment understood the broad- 
sword exercise and the bayonet, and every non-commissioned 
officer and private understood thoroughly the bayonet exercise, 

* First— Seize thv> piece with the right hand in front of the left, let go with the left 
hand, and extend the piece quickly to the rear with the right arm; then seize tho 
piece again with the left hand at the muzzle. Second— Thrust the piece quickly for- 
ward to the full length of the left arm, the point of the bayonet at the height of the 
breast, at the same time straighten the right leg vigorously. 

t First— Extend the right arm forcibly, and to its full length, to the front, the bar- 
rel falling to the rear and resting on the right shoulder; straighten quickly the right 
leg, and direct the blow at the height of the belly. Second— Follow the blow with 
the butt Dy one over the head with the stock. Third— After the blow to the front the 
piece should always be brought down forcibly on returning to guard, to represent the 
blow with the stock. 



256 GENERAL BUBNHAM'S GALLANTRY. 

and every word of command in all tlie evolutions and changes 
necessary in a hand-to-hand fight; and the boys were thorough- 
ly in hand, and, under the command of their skillful and heroic 
leader, they could be hurled against any given point with such 
a fearful shock as to compel them to give way before them. [No 
matter what position they were thrown into, every one had 
been taught, and a word brought them into any other position 
needed with the ever varying, changing, surging masses. So 
they were never lost under the word of command, no matter 
what order was given. Such men, so trained, retain their pres- 
ence of mind, are always cool, and can always be relied upon 
in these fearful shocks of hand-to-hand conflicts, and this was 
what carried the day, and won for the Union this battle against 
fearful odds. 

This regiment was assigned to the Fourth Corps, Major-gen- 
eral D. Keyes commanding. With this corps, Colonel Burnham 
participated in the siege at Yorktown, and his command received 
the thanks of General McClellan for a successful and brilliant 
charge on the enemy, in which no other troops were engaged. 
The report goes on to say, 'He was in the battle at Lee's Mills. 
At Williamsburg, he distinguished himself in Hancock's bril- 
liant charge on the right of the lines, which virtually decided 
the battle. So sensible was General McClellan of Colonel 
Burnham's services on this occasion, that he personally ad- 
dressed his regiment, a few clays after the battle, thanking them 
for their gallantry and good behavior. In front of Richmond, 
Colonel Burnham participated in all the operations of the army. 
In the " seven days' battles " he again bore a conspicuous part, 
his command being engaged with the enemy at Golcling's Farm, 
Savage's Station, White Oak Swamp, and Malvern Hill (the 
reader will please keep in his mind that the Sixth Regiment is 
with him right along). His uniform gallantry and efficiency 
in all these contests, did not escape the observation of his su- 
perior officers, and on arriving at Harrison's Bar, Generals 
Hancock, Smith, and Franklin, united in recommending him 
for promotion. 



GENERAL BURN HAM'S GALLANTRY. 257 

In the battle of Antietam, Sept. 17th, Colonel Burnham dis- 
played his usual coolness and bravery. 

General Smith organized a light division, composed of the 
picked men of his corps, in which Colonel B. was assigned to 
duty. The famous charge of the light division, on the 3d of 
May, 18G3, through ' Slaughter-pen,' over the stone-wall, and 
up the heights of St. Mary, carrying the enemy's strong works, 
and capturing a battery of seven guns, with many prisoners, 
again added to the laurels of this officer. General Sedgwick, 
who witnessed this desperate and successful assault, and the 
cool valor of Colonel Burnham as he led his men on to victory, 
rode forward to the captured works, and while the battle yet 
raged fiercely, thanked him for his glorious achievement, and 
assured him that his services should be rewarded with promo- 
tion at an early day. When General Sedgwick deemed it 
necessary to withdraw his troops to the left bank of the Rap- 
pahannock, to Colonel Burnham was assigned the important 
duty of covering the withdrawal of the corps ; a perilous duty, 
which he performed to the full satisfaction of the general in 
command. 

The reduced state of the army made it necessary, soon after 
this, to break up the light division, and General Sedgwick, in 
general orders, expressed his regret at the necessity which com- 
pelled this step, saying, that its services fairly entitled it to a 
permanent organization, and its gallant leader, Colonel Burn- 
ham, to its permanent command. 

In the fall of 1863, Colonel Burnham's health being com- 
pletely shattered by his long, arduous, and exhausting labors, 
he was detailed to superintend the recruiting service for his 
regiment in Maine, on which duty he remained until February, 
1864. During most of the time, he was also president of a 
general court-martial convened in Portland. On returning to 
active service, Colonel Burnham was assigned to the command 
of the brigade in which his regiment was serving, and so con- 
tinued until he was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, 
17 



258 GENERAL BUBNRAWS GALLANTRY. 

April 15, 1864. At the request of General Smith, his old com- 
mander, — who was organizing a force at Yorktown, to operate 
on the south side of the James river, — he was ordered to report 
for service in this force, and assigned to the command of the 
Second Brigade, First Division, Thirteenth Army Corps. He 
participated with the army of the James in the movement up the 
river, and in the subsequent operations at Bermuda Hundred. 
His command was constantly engaged with the enemy during 
these operations, and his gallantry and' efficiency were never 
more conspicuous and serviceable. 

During the unfortunate battle near Drury's Bluff, May 16th, 
lie is reported as performing prodigies of valor. Holding his 
position for hours after our lines were beaten back at other 
points, he repulsed continuous and determined attacks of the 
enemy, and captured numerous prisoners. Although two 
horses were shot under him during this hotly contested en- 
gagement, he miraculously escaped uninjured. In the attack 
upon Petersburg, June 15th, he stormed and carried the ene- 
my's works w T ith his skirmishers, capturing five pieces of artil 
lery and a considerable number of prisoners. Of this affair an 
eye-witness wrote: 'The success which he achieved placed 
Petersburg in the grasp of our Union forces, and had there 
remained two hours of daylight, the terrible struggle which 
was subsequently waged around the " cockade city " would 
never have taken place.' His health failing, he proceeded 
north, and recruited himself somewhat, with a few weeks' quiet 
with his family, when he again returned to his command. 
Preparations were being made for an attack upon the enemy's 
fortifications at Chapin's Farm. 

Within < twenty-four hours after his return, he marshaled his 
men for a last battle against the enemies of his country. Dur- 
ing the night of Sept. 28th, a pontoon bridge was thrown across 
the James at Aiken's landing, the 18th corps crossed, and with 
the first gleam of morning light commenced an attack upon 
the rebels. General Burnham was selected to lead the attack- 



GENEBAL BURNHAWS DEATH. 259 

ing column. At a short distance from the crossing, he came 
upon the enemy's skirmishers strongly intrenched. They were 
speedily routed and pushed back toward their fortifications. A 
running fire ensued, the rebels being driven rapidly. At a dis- 
tance of about two miles from the river, General Burnham 
came upon the enemy's works at Chapin's farm, and commenced 
the assault. The struggle was desperate and bloody ; but the 
determined resistance of the enemy was in vain. General 
Burnham carried their works triumphantly, capturing all their 
artillery, and hundreds of prisoners. Still the enemy clung to 
a portion of the line, and from the right poured down a de- 
structive fire upon our victorious forces. 

General Burnham, who had now dismounted in order to 
enter the captured fort, now rallied such of his force as he 
could assemble, and was making a detour to the rear of these 
troublesome rebels, in order to attack them and secure their 
capture. As he cheered on his men, a minie ball pierced his 
abdomen and he fell. 

Sorely wounded though he was, and in the agonies of death, 
he retained all his mental faculties, and saw his approaching 
death with a composure and resignation which well became so 
distinguished a soldier, so eminent a patriot, so true a man. 
With shortening breath, he spoke of his family; and then, as his 
long and unselfish services for his country seemed to flit through 
his mind, he said, l I have tried to do my duty] when he died 
without a struggle, as he was being carried from the field he 
so nobly won. In honor of his memory, the fort which his 
6tern valor won, was called Fort Burnham. It will be seen 
by this account, that Colonel Burnham and the Sixth Maine 
Regiment, so illustrious for capacity, coolness, and bravery 
and here represented by the adjutant-general as one of the 
best-drilled organizations in the army, yielded the fruits to be 
expected, as the result of proper education in all the depart- 
ments of military drill, a truth which I had labored hard to 
impress upon all with whom I had anything to do. I had con- 



260 FBUITS OF GOOD DRILLING. 

tended earnestly, that many disasters which occurred, in the 
shape of panics and utter routes and defeat, resulted from want 
of proper drilling. The officers and men getting confused, by* 
not being perfectly familiar with all the tactics of war, lost 
confidence in themselves, became panic-stricken, and defeat 
was often the result, when victory should have been won. 
General Burnham and his noble regiment had confidence in 
their knowledge of arms, and in themselves because of it ; and 
hence were never flustrated, and in their charges on the enemy, 
and in their defense when charged, to an observer carried with 
them an air of sublimity and moral grandeur which could not 
fail to extort praise from even their enemies. How much more 
from friends anxiously watching their career, when in the fierc- 
est conflicts with the foe. 

I mention only these specimens of good training, to show 
how far and wide, in a war like ours, may be the influence 
of even one competent drill-master, who devotes his time as I 
did from April, 1861, until April, 1865, to educating the oificers 
and privates by thousands, in the drill-room and on the field. 

Who can tell how much the little that I had done had to do 
with saving the lives of our boys, especially when on a charge, 
or in personal conflicts with the foe; or how much it had to do 
with the general issue; or with the time when rebellion re- 
ceived its final blow? A<?ain and ao-ain 1 received letters of 
thanks, from both men and officers, telling me that they were 
indebted to the instruction I had given them for the preserva- 
tion of their lives. I will give one which was sent from the 
front to the Kennebec Journal by some officers of the Sixth 
Maine, when they heard that I had been crippled in the work : 

To the Peess and the People of Maine. — The under- 
signed, members of the Sixth Maine Regiment of Volunteers, 
are desirous of calling the attention of the people of our State 
to the present position and distress of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, 
of Biddeford, and of publicly testifying our gratitude to him for 
the invaluable service he has rendered to us. 



HOW I WAS JUSTIFIED. 261 

Sergeant Ambler was engaged in drilling our regiment, both 
officers and men, for several months last year in the vicinity 
of Washington, and to his instructions, we believe, the regiment 
owes very much of its efficiency and success. To his teachings 
some of us owe the preservation of our lives upon the field of 
battle. 

He has also been engaged in drilling and instructing other 
of our Maine regiments and many individuals connected with 
the service, both as officers and privates. 

He is now disabled by wounds received while engaged in 
this noble work, and without the means of earning his sup- 
port. 

Such a man should not suffer while a country remains which 
we can call our own. 



(Signed by) C. Edes, 

L. H. Whittier, 
Wsi. Sherman, 
Sidney W. Tucker, | 
F. G. Leighton, 



Sixth Maine. 



I, therefore, felt the blessing of justification on this depart- 
ment of my life. Proud of the part I had acted in this drama, 
proud to be one of the defenders of National Liberty, and I 
came to the conclusion, that ' Uncle Sam' would hardly know 
the difference between his natural and his adopted children, 
and would, on the whole, deal as liberally with one as the other. 

So, my reader, I found a good deal of comfort in reviewing 
the whole matter, and I said to myself, my life has not been a 
blot or a blank, and so giving myself to God and my country, 
there is no part of my life that I cannot use for the good of my 
fellow men. And I got a complete victory over the devil in 
my tussle with him, when he began to throw his fiery darts. 
Paul had told me how to do it. He said, after I had got the 
rest of the armor on, 'Above all, taking the shield of faith, 
wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the 
wicked.' So I held up this precious shield, and with it I could 



262 HOW I WAS JUSTIFIED. 

parry in prime or tierce, or develop in seconde, all the lunges 
of the devil. Then I had a little more to comfort me. 

I found, on a review, that I had personally got more than a 
thousand men into the service, of my own countrymen, besides 
as many more native born Americans, who told on the enemy 
in the great strife. I had the advantage of most men in being 
a soldier and a drill-master myself, and I could have put thou- 
sands of dollars in my pocket, if I had played the broker in 
getting them; but all these temptations had no influence with 
me ; but with singleness of purpose, aiming to clo the most 
good in every way in my power, to relieve, protect, and defend 
my adopted country and flag, I worked early and late, and al- 
most day and night, as much as in .me lay, as. I promised to do 
when I made my first speech from the balcony of the old Mas- 
sachusetts State-house, on that memorable Sabbath to which I 
have referred. So over the whole road, there were flowers 
strewn for my comfort. 

It may be said by some, how is it that Ambler finds flowers 
in looking over a war record ? Strange place for flowers! A 
strange place among mangled heroes, on bloody battle-fields 
to find anything like solace! I admit it; but go with me, and 
you shall see how it is done. 

There is a sublimity on a field of battle that is developed no- 
where else, as it is there, — an utter self-abnegation, and forget- 
fulness of everything but one's country, so that even boys, 
when the death-rattle is in their very throats, cheer their flags 
and give up the ghost. At the hospitals at Dallis, among the 
patriot wounded was a boy only nineteen years old. The glo- 
rious victory achieved in the battle where he fell, inspired him 
with enthusiastic joy, notwithstanding the pain from his wounds 
was intense. The surgeon as he examined the ghastly wound, 
sadly informed him that he must die, and that his end was 
very near. Glancing for a moment at his torn and blood- 
stained limb, a tear glistened in his eye. Drawing from his 
bosom the picture of his mother, he kissed it, and gave it with 



HEROISM. 263 

a letter to a comrade, and asked him to see that it was sent to 
her. Then calling a friend to his side, he grasped his hand, 
saying: ' Matt, they tell me that lam about to die. Before I 
go, let us give three cheers for the glorious , old Union? He 
raised himself up in his bed ; but the effort was too much for 
his exhausted frame, and he sank back upon his pillow, and 
immediately expired. Look at Thomas Jackson, coxswain of 
the frigate "Wabash. His leg was torn off by a shell, so that 
it hung by a small portion of the muscle and skin. He delib- 
erately took out his belt-knife, and tried to sever the leg from 
his body; but the knife was so dull, though he sawed manfully, 
that he could not separate it. He was taken below, and died 
in two hours, saying to his comrades that stood about him, 
1 Boys, I am happy to suffer for the dear old flag? What a 
nobility is this! A country cannot die with such patriots 
teeming all through her land. See how battles make heroes, — 
making men utterly careless of death. 

Let me give you a letter of a thorough soldier, a captain in 
the Enniskillen dragoons, under Wellington, during the Cri- 
mean war: 

November 2. 
Dear Jack, — I am, you see, alive at this date, but God knows 
for how long after. You have, I presume, devoured all the ac- 
counts which have been sent home, as to our glorious charge. 
Oh, such a charge ! Never think of the gallop and trot which 
you have often witnessed in the Phoenix park when you desire 
to form a notion of a genuine blood-hot, all mad charge, such 
as that I have come out of with a few lance ]u*ods, minus 
some gold lace, a helmet chain, and brown Bill's (the charger's) 
right ear. From the moment Ave dashed at the enemy, whose 
position, and so forth, you doubtless know as much about as I 
can tell you, I knew nothing, but that I was impelled by some 
irresistible force onward, and by some invisible and impercepti- 
ble influence to crush every obstacle which stumbled before my 
good sword and brave old charger. I never in my life experi- 



264 SOLDIER'S LETTER. 

enced such a sublime sensation as in the moment of the charge. 
Some fellows talk of its being 'demoniac.' I know this, that it 
was such as made me a match for any two ordinary men, and 
gave me such an amount of glorious indifference as to life, as I 
thought it impossible to be master of. It would do your Celtic 
heart good to hear the most magnificent cheers with which we 
dashed into what P W calls ' the gully scrimage.' For- 
ward — dash — bang — clank, and there we were in the midst of 
such smoke, cheer, and clatter as never before stunned a mortal's 
ear. It was glorious. Down one by one, aye, two by two, fell the 
thick-skulled and over-numerous Cossasks and other lads of the 
tribe of Old Mck. Down too, alas, fell many a hero with a warm 
Celtic heart, and more than one fell screaming loud for victory. 
I could not pause, I was all push, wheel, frenzy, strike, and 
down, down, down they went. Twice I was unhorsed, and 
more than once I had to grip my sword tighter, the blood of 
foes streaming down over the hilt and running up my very 
sleeve. Our old Waterloo comrades, the Scott Grays, and our- 
selves, were the only fellows who flung headlong first into the 
very heart of the Muscoves. Now we were lost in their ranks — 
now in little bands battling — now in good order together — now 
in and now out, until the whole 'levies' on the spot plunged into 
a forming body of the enemy, and helped us to end the fight by 
compelling the foe to fly. Never did men run so vehemently 
but all this you have read in the papers. 

I cannot depict my feelings when we returned. I sat down 
completely exhausted and unable to eat, though deadly hungry. 
All my uniform, my hands, my very face were bespattered 
with blood. It was that of the enemy. Grand idea! But my 
feelings, — they were full of that exultation which it is impossi- 
ble to describe. At least twelve Russians were sent wholly 
out of the 4 way of the war ' by my good steel alone, and at 
least as many more put on the passage to that peaceful exit by 
the same excellent weapon. So, also, can others say. What a 
thing to reflect on ! I have almost grown a soldier philosopher, 



THE LESSONS OF WAR. 2G5 

and most probably will one of these days, if the bullets which 
are flying about so abundantly give me time to brush up. 

My dear fellow, our countrymen have not tarnished their 
fame in this battle. Gallantry and glory will never abandon 
the march of Celtic bands, — never! Oh, that I could have 
patience to write you of such deeds of individual heroism as 
have come within my notice,! Fictionists are shabby judges 
of true bravery. No novel ever had sham hero, who comes up 
to the realities I have witnessed. One of my troops, for in- 
stance, had his horse shot under him in the melee. 'Bloody 
wars,' he roared, l this wont do,' and right at a Russian he ran, 
pulled him from his horse by the sword-hand in the most ex- 
traordinary manner ; then deliberately cutting off his head as 
he came down, vaulted into the saddle, and turning the Russian 
charger against its late friends, fought his way through. This 
took less time to do than it takes me to tell it. 

Dear Jack, there are deeds of daring when you encounter an 
enemy, as I have done, in a hand to hand fight with the sword. 
The first sword-cut that I received was two and a half inches 
long, which I will show you if ever I see you. Good-by, old 
boy. 

From your friend and comrade, 

Thomas ISTigloon. 

I can see in this war, as in the war of the Revolution, the 
throes of a nobler manhood. The travail of a government, in 
giving birth to a higher state of liberty and equality, so that 
when it is delivered of that, of, and for which it has travailed 
in pain and in blood, it shall rejoice like the mother over her 
last-born and most perfect child, who shall bear her name and 
fame down the long years of posterity. 

As Tyrrell says, ' Let us pause and reflect upon this history 
of carnage and horror ! We would fain that such gigantic 
calamities should yield some good to humanity, some lessons 
to the world. If seas and mountains have their meaning, and 



2QQ THE LESSONS OF WAB. 

with a silent yet sublime eloquence which is felt, not heard, 
impress on the beholder elevating and gentle thoughts ; if the 
hoarse murmur or shrill scream of the bleak wind through the 
dense dim forests has a voice to those who listen in the spirit 
of the seer ; if stones, and trees, and running brooks preach 
mute sermons to the philosophic mind; if the mysterious and 
silent stars sing in their course like millions of radiant angels, 
and shed an inspiration on the rapt beholder, — if these things 
are so (and in a metaphorical sense they are), then surely war, 
in all its ghastly and fiendish majesty, — war, with its regal 
preparations, with its pomp, its gold, its scarlet and blue, and 
its grand swelling strains of music, — war, with its roarings and 
its thunders, with its terrific lightnings, which more than rival 
those of heaven, with its cataracts of fire, hurling from ten 
thousand iron mouths the deadly messengers whose shocks are 
as if some infernal deity had smote the staggering earth, until 
the mountains reeled, and the astonished sea stood still,— war, 
the stupendous destroyer, who sows in wantonness and reaps 
in blood, whose dreadful harvests are the gory fields, covered 
with mangled corpses, with blood-bespattered faces, and sight- 
less glaring eyes, fixed on the blue vault of heaven, as if vainly 
appealing to the merciful God, who seems for a time to have 
abandoned his creation, and have given it over to be the grim 
sport of fiends ; — surely this dreadful power has its teachings 
if we could but glean them.' I could not draw much comfort 
from such scenes as these, did I not have a perfect faith in an 
overruling providence, who has some plans laid, the founda- 
tions of which rest too deep for common fathoming. 

There is an awfulness when the tempest rages, that strikes 
many beholders with terror, from before which the fowls of 
heaven fly away to the deep, dark forests and hide themselves, 
and the lowing herds sweep over hill and plain to some shel- 
tered spot ; but I see in the sharp lightning's flash, and I hear 
in the deep-toned thunder, the way God takes to cleanse the air 
and sweeten it for man. There are very few that look upon the 



THE LESSONS OF WAB. 267 

sale of Joseph by his brethren, with any sort of reconciliation; 
but when the end is seen from the beginning, there is a com- 
pleteness about it that reflects much of the divine wisdom and 
power of God, without by any means justifying the motives of 
Joseph's brethren, or abating a jot from their wickedness ; but 
Joseph saw the divine plan when he said to his brethren, 'Now, 
therefore, be not grieved nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold 
me hither, for God did send me before you to preserve life. So 
now it was not you that sent me hither, but God, and he hath 
made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, and a 
ruler throughout all the land of Egypt.' 

So when the rebels fired on Fort Sumter, and commenced 
this terrible war for nothing else but to perpetuate slavery, 
God meant that first gun for the funeral knell of that horrid 
institution, and so through the long and bloody strife that was 
meant to rivet the chains forever by wicked men, the great 
Ruler of nations meant it should strike them off, and make this 
great people a nation of freemen. And so 1 gather comfort 
from the rebellion, — not that men rebelled, not that so many 
were slain, but that God has overruled this war, and through it, 
brought us as a country up to a higher patriotism, made us a 
nobler people, a better model for the nations of the earth to 
pattern after, and I had helped to accomplish this. 



268 JOB'S TURKEY. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



It now remained for me to lay my plans as best I could for 
future operations. The war was ended. So there was no more 
for me to do in that direction ; but the great fight was still go- 
ing on between the kingdom of darkness and the kiugdom of 
light, and I said to myself and to my wife, I must put myself in 
fighting trim and go at it. I must first settle up all my busi- 
ness affairs. So this being fixed upon, I gave up to my clamor- 
ing creditors what I once hoped to hold, my little home, to be 
divided among them as far as it would go. Some of them did 
not press me, but others did. They had kept quiet while I was 
in Washington, expecting I should be successful with my claims; 
but when they learned of my failure there, their patience ended, 
and it seems to be a singular business fact, that when every- 
body thinks a man has money enough, they never feel in haste 
about their pay; but when they begin to mistrust that you are 
running a little short, every man wants his money to the last 
dime. I said to my wife, now we have struck bottom, we will 
put down a stake, and then take a fair start. I felt how about 
as poor as Job's turkey, but not quite. It has been said of him 
that he was so poor that he had to lean up against a tree to 
gobble. But I did not have to lean against a tree to do that, I 
could gobble well enough without it generally, and here I must 
diverge a little, even if I am charged with not exactly sticking 
to my text, for I just now remember when I was a little tongue- 
tied in New York when asking for a pass on one of the 
steamers running to Fall River. I ought to have mentioned 



ANECDOTE OF FISK. 269 

this when speaking of my labors in getting signers to my peti- 
tion, or rather testimonials to go with my petition to Congress. 

My motto has always been to speak well of a bridge that 
carries a fellow over well, and I should not do a man justice, 
who is now no more, if I did not mention an interview I had 
with him, Colonel Fisk, of railroad notoriety. 

In the summer of 1871, while I was working up the testimo- 
nials to be attached to my petition to Congress for help, I went 
to Long Branch to see the President, and not finding him there, 
I went to West Point where I learned the President had gone, 
and met him there. I showed him the names I had on rny list 
of testimonials, and asked him for his signature. He told me 
it was a big thing, and that I had his sympathy ; but it would 
not be proper for him to sign it until it passed through Con- 
gress. My travels had cost me a good deal of money, and I 
found I had not money enough to reach, home. When I got 
back as far as New York city I had not a dime left. I went to 
the telegraph office, and told the officer I wanted to send a 
telegram to Mr. Carter, of Saco,^;o get him to send me some 
money to get home with, and asksd him how long it would be 
before I would get an answer. He said it would probably be 
at least four hours. It was then after eight o'clock in the eve- 
ning. I told him I did not know what I should do, I had no 
money to get any supper or a lodging for the night. He said, 
' Who are you?' I told him. what my name was, and that I 
had been getting some testimonials from officers in the army, 
to attach to a petition I intended to present to Congress, for 
some remuneration for my services in the army, and handed 
him the list to look over. After reading it he said, c Sergeant, 
I will let you have five dollars to help you along, and you can 
pay me when you get it.' With this I got my supper and 
lodging. It was Saturday night when I got this money, and I 
paid out of it for two nights' lodging and my board over Sun- 
day. I made up my mind that I would go and see Mr. Fisk, 
the owner of the line of boats running to Fall River, and ask 



270 INTERVIEW WITH FISK. 

him for a pass. I went to the opera house where he had his 
office, and saw the major of Fisk's regiment, and told him I 
wanted to get a pass on Mr. Fisk's boat. He asked me who I 
was. I told him who I was, and showed him my documents. 
He then told me he could not give me a pass, but said he 
wanted me to see the colonel. I told him I did not want to 
ask him. * 1 don't want to go in, because I have been told that 
he" is pretty rough with such fellows as I am, and I feel bad 
enough without being bluffed.' He said I was mistaken. The 
colonel was as good-hearted a fellow as ever lived, and I must 
see him and show him the papers I had with me, and he knew 
Fisk would give me a pass ; and, turning to the porter he said, 
< when the colonel gets through reading his correspondence, 
take Sergeant Ambler in to see him first, before anybody else.' 

In a little while, I should think there were thirty people in 
waiting for an interview. I asked him why so many were 
waiting to see Mr. Fisk? Why, said the major, these are poor 
people seeking some aid in some way from him. 

The porter came out in a little while, and said the colonel 
was now ready to see me. ' Come right in.' I went in and 
found him at his desk, and gave him the military salute in the 
European style. He bowed an acknowledgment, and he said, 
* Well, my man, what do you want ? ' I told him I was a little 
hard up, and wanted to get a pass on his boat. He said, ' Who 
are you?' I told him I was Sergeant Ambler, and that I had 
been down to Long Branch and West Point, to get signers to 
this petition (holding it in my hand) to present to- Congress. 
He said, ' let me look at it.' I gave it to him and he read it, 
and then he said, 'Do you want me to sign this?' I said, 'No, 
sir, I do not.' He then said, ' What do you want ? ' I told him 
I just wanted a pass on his boat. 'Well,' said he, 'why did 
you not ask General Grant for a pass ? ' I said, ' Because I 
would not do it, sir.' And he said, ' Will you ask Jim Fisk for 
a pass, before you would ask General Grant ? ' I said, ' Yes, 
sir.' He then turned to his clerk and said to him, ' Here, give 



THE POOR HELPED. 271 

this sergeant ten dollars, and a pass on my boat.' He then said, 
* Sergeant, when you go to Washington to get your pension, come 
and see me,' and shook me heartily by the hand, and said, 'you 
are an out-spoken fellow, and frank, and that is what I like,' 
and bid me good-day. I then waited a while in the outer room, 
to see how those others fared. Some dozen or more came out, 
and not one without something. One old lady with two chil- 
dren had received several dollars. Another old man had got 
five dollars, and several crippled soldiers had each received 
substantial aid, and came out with a smile on their faces, and a 
blessing on their lips for the colonel. As I turned away from 
the door, , I thanked God for what I had seen. There was the 
old, the unfortunate, the lame, the halt, and the blind, all of 
them receiving aid and sympathy from this man. On the very 
morning I left Boston for Washington with my petition, in- 
tending on my way to call and see the colonel, his dead body 
was on the way to Vermont, to its narrow home. 

God had given me a tongue and a few brains, and with a 
heart full of love for souls to propel things, I made up my mind 
that that was so much stock in trade, and with these I would 
go to recruiting and drilling men for the kingdom. The same 
old ghost met me at this point that had often met me before, 
and would not down at my bidding. I must have more educa- 
tion, for how could an ignorant man expect the people to give 
him bread, if he was not capable of instructing them to some 
extent. I meant to preach and study, and so keep both irons 
in the fire at the same time. And I must have money, some 
way to do it. I thought of the sale of my book that I begun 
before the war. The first editions had been all sold, and the 
money had gone to help 'Uncle Sam.' 

In the great fire in Portland the stereotype plates and every 
thing connected with my book were burned up, so I had noth- 
ing to start on. I then made up my mind that if I could get 
out a new edition, correcting the old and adding to it what I 
had passed through since writing the first, I could sell it to 



272 PBOVIDENCE HELPS. 

good .advantage. I had formed a very extensive acquaintance 
during the war, and I felt confident that every man who could 
afford to invest a little in good old Saxon, would buy one. 
That was all. right so far, but up starts the same old ghost, and 
with a sepulchral tone, inquired, 'Where is your money to do 
it?' ' By this time I had become so familiar with this phantom, 
that I said I'll go and see. I went among my friends and asked 
their advice about attempting to put out another book, and 
most of them said, 'Go ahead, it's a good idea, I'll buy one.' 
So I went to see the printer and talked with him about it, and 
he approved of it, and I talked around some time before I could 
get cheek enough to ask him if he would trust me for the work 
until I could sell books enough to pay him, and here my heart 
thumped against my ribs pretty hard for fear he would say no. 
God and the printer were better than my fears, and he an- 
swered, 'Yes, Ambler, I'll trust you, for you can sell it, and I 
know you will pay me as soon as you realize enough from the 
sale to do it.' He then put me on the track of a man who was 
at leisure, and was just the man I needed to help me compile 
and arrange it for the press. I then went to a publishing house, 
to see if they would take the responsibility to issue the book, 
in such numbers as would be necessary for a fair business oper- 
ation, and God had prepared the way somehow, so that they 
were ready to issue the work as soon as it could be prepared, 
and ^vait for their pay; and so with the engraver. They were 
all ready, and all willing to trust to my honesty as to their pay. 
It made me think of the boy whose father called him up one 
morning very early, and told him to saddle the horse and take 
a grist to the mill. It was very foggy, and the boy told his 
father it was so foggy that he was sure he could not find the 
way. 'Why, father, I can't see down to the gate.' His father 
said to him, ' Oh, yes, you can my son ; get on to the old horse 
and go as flu- as you can see, and if you get to a place where you 
can't see any further, you can stop.' The boy started ; but the 
fog lifted as he proceeded, seeing just about so far all the time, 



BEAD WIND AGAIN. 273 

and he found no place to stop until he reached the mill. So in 
my case. I had a grist to grind, and as I went the fog kept lift- 
ing, lifting, and as I stepped along, the way kept clearing for me 
to go further. Is it not so in following the leadings of Provi- 
dence most always? Don't we walk by faith, and not by 
sight ? 

1 When the Great Shepherd leads the way, 
Oh, who will fear to go ; 
From darkness into realms of day, 
He leads the journey through.' 

"While going along with my book thus, apparently under easy 
sail, all at once I was struck aback, by a summons to court by 
Dresser & Ayer, of Portland, Maine, whom I was owing the 
small sum of twelve dollars and thirty-three cents, and who 
had promised to wait until I got eased up in my money matters, 
so I could conveniently meet the bill. This threw me into 
Doubting Castle for a night or two, when a good friend advised 
me to take the poor debtor's oath, and so block all these hungry 
creatures that eat up the poor as they would eat bread, until 
such a time as I could pay them. 

I hated to do it; but on viewing the whole matter, un- 
der all the surrounding circumstances, I made up my mind it 
was my duty to do so, and that would bring me down on to 
what the oil men call ' hard pan,' and then I would begin to 
build without molestation, until I could get my head above 
water, and then I would pay up all debts, and in the mean time 
give my Christian friends an opportunity to cultivate one of the 
graces so necessary in their case, — I mean the grace of patience; 
for out of it grows experience, and a man is much improved 
when patience has its perfect work ; and the Lord knew there 
was abundant room for improvement in their case. 

Here is the summons. I suppose it is nothing private, at 

least it was not so marked, and therefore I present it in these 

columns, and if it is any advantage to my friends to be thus 

advertised, I will give them the full benefit of it, as freely as I 
18 



274 SUMMONS TO COUBT. 

would give them a drink of cold water should they ask it. I 
am determined to be generous as well as just. 

STATE OF MAINE. 
Yoek, ss. — To Isaac W. Ambler, Greeting. 

We command you to appear before our Judge of our Muni- 
cipal Court of the city of Saco, in the County of York, to be 
holden at the Municipal Court room, in said Saco, in said 
County, on the fourth Tuesday of November, a. d. 1372, at 
nine o 7 clock in the forenoon, then and there to answer unto 
Aurin L. Dresser and David M. Ayer, both of Portland, Coun- 
ty of Cumberland, and State of Maine, doing business under 
the firm name of Dresser & Ayer, in a plea of the case as set 
forth in the writ ; which plea the said plaintiffs have com- 
menced to be heard and tried at the said Court, and your 
goods or estate are attached to the value of twenty dollars, for 
security to satisfy the judgment which the said plaintiffs may 
recover on the aforesaid trial. Fail not of appearance at your 
peril. Witness, Samuel F. Chase, Esq., our said Judge, at Saco 
aforesaid, the fourteenth day of November, in the year of our 
Lord one thousand eight hundred and seventy-two. 

Samuel F. Chase. 

Having found out, in the course of my life, that even I might 
be mistaken, I concluded to call on my good friend Judge Em- 
ery, of Saco, and ask his advice, and get a little instruction how 
to proceed in the matter. I made a full statement to him of 
my situation, and showed him my summons to court. He ad- 
vised me in order to save myself from constant annoyance, and 
from being robbed, to take the poor debtor's oath, and go 
through the forms necessary, and generously offered to pay the 
bills. 

It is said, ' pride and poverty go together,' and I guess it is 
true enough, for it was very mortifying to my pride to do this, 
as I always felt a good deal of pride in paying my bills when 



THE TRIAL. 275 

they became due, and I could only justify myself on the ground 
that in this way only could I ever pay my bills. That is, I 
could say to such as would not let me alone, ' Hands off, gen- 
tlemen, until I can get breath, and then if you can observe the 
common rules of decency, you shall all be paid to the last 
cent.' 

So on the fourth Tuesday of November, 1872, at nine o'clock 
in the morning, according to orders, I put in my appearance at 
court, as cited by the summons, Judge Emery appearing for 
me. E. S. Derby, Esq., of Saco, appeared for Dresser & 
Ayer. I was put upon the stand and sworn, Judge Chase pre- 
siding. 

Mr. Derby opened the case and put the following questions: 

Qaes. Mr. Ambler, what property have you ? 

Ans. None. 

Ques. What have you done with your house ? 

Ans. My house had two mortgages on it and the parties 
foreclosed and I could not pay them, and everything went to 
pay my creditors. 

Ques. Have you a watch? 

Ans. I had ; but when I was in Washington I had to let it 
go to pay my bills. 

Ques. Have you no jewelry, rings, etc. ? 

Ans. No. 

Ques. Have you made way with, or covered anything? 

Ans. No. 

Ques. What have you got ? 

Ans. Nothing. 

(And here the lawyer, looking at the judge, said, 'Mr. Am- 
bler is a strong man and can earn it in a little while, it is only 
$14.10.') i 

I answered if I was able to work I would earn it very quick 
and pay it. 

Ques. Mr. Ambler, you have a trade have you ? 

Ans. Yes, sir. 



276 TBIAL CONTINUED. 

Ques. What is your trade ? 

Ans. I am a soldier. 

Ques. When did you enlist ? 

Ans. Thirty years ago, under the Duke of Wellington ; but 
my business just now is rather dull, and if it was not, I could 
not do much. 

Ques. What is the matter; you look like an able-bodied man? 

Ans. I have lost the use of my hand. 

Ques. What is the matter Avith that ? 

My answer to this was to take off my glove and exhibit my 
shrunken, crippled wrist and hand. Here the lawyer, advanc- 
ing, looked at it, and turning to the judge said, 'Your honor, I 
did not know Mr. Ambler was a cripple.' 

Ques. Mr. Ambler, you have a pension ? 

Ans. No, sir. 

Ques. How did you lose the use of your hand ? 

Ans. Drilling officers of the Union army in the late war. 

Ques. And you have no pension ? 

Ans. No, sir. 

This closed the catechising on the complainant's side. Mr. 
Emery then asked me one question. 

Ques. Mr. Ambler, have you not a sword? 

Ans. Yes, sir. It is one I had drawn to defend our flag when 
marching through Baltimore. It was presented to me by the 
lamented Colonel Ellsworth. I don't know as I can really call 
it mine, I told my boy if he would commit to memory a piece 
called 'Bingen on the Rhine,' and repeat it all to me without 
making any mistakes, I would give him my sword. He learned 
it and repeated it to me without a mistake, and I gave him the 
sword. 

This ended the examination. The plea of Mr. Derby was 
very brief. My lawyer did not think it necessary to reply, and 
the court decided that I was entitled to the benefit of the poor 
debtor's oath, and I was discharged, and it went upon the record 
of the court. So here I found myself at the bottom of the lad- 



TALK WITH THE LAWYER. 277 

der, and the thing publicly acknowledged. Mr. Derby, who 
had been doing the lawyer, in his plea against me, kindly walked 
over with me to the little shop, where my wife is trying to get 
bread for us by dressmaking and a little millinery work, and 
6topped and chatted a while. He told me not to entertain any 
hard feelings against him, as he was simply doing his duty for 
his client. I told him I understood perfectly his position, and 
we could not expect anything better from a lawyer (joking of 
course), and they needed pardon, and I hoped they would all 
find it. I showed my good friend some of my papers, the testi- 
monials of Generals Hooker, Burnside,McClellan, Shepley,Dow, 
and others, in which he was very much interested, and when he 
left he said, 'Ambler, you are a hero/ and of course he was 
right. Who would ever think of disputing with a lawyer, es-^ 
pecially when there was no chance for a dispute? 

Well, here I was down on to 'hard pan,' and I said to myself 
Ambler, you are a poor shack now, anyhow, and I guess there 
will be none to dispute that point, and so I soliloquized a 
little; not just as the rich man did, who determined to pull 
down his old barns and build largely, so he could have room 
where to bestow all his goods ; but I said to myself, Ambler, 
eat, drink (if thou can'st get anything), and take thine ease, for 
there will be no demands for thee to pay at present. They are 
all settled pro tempore. When, to my astonishment, the eve- 
ning of the very same day that I went upon the record as a 
'flat,' a townsman, knowing it too, came to my place and pre- 
sented a bill of a small balance which was due him on an ac- 
count, and said, 'Ambler, I am going to keeping house, and if 
you have got any plates or crockery of any kind, I will take it' 
at its value toward what you owe me.' 

Reader, ' how is that for high ? ' Well, I said, wife, just give 
this poor man those half a dozen plates (we had only six in all 
left), and I will eat off the table like a pig out of his trough. 
I should have given them to him, for I thought a man that 
could take the last half dozen plates a poor fellow had to eat 



278 ^ MEAN DUN. 

off of, should have them for his cheek, if for nothing else. Mrs. 
Ambler, good wife that she is, begged to differ with me (how 
presumptuous these women are since woman's rights have been 
so much discussed), and a protest from her was the end of that 
man's crockery hopes. I told him I would surely pay him 
some time. c No,' he said, * I know you can never do a day's 
work with your arm to earn a cent, and I shall have to lose it 
if you don't let me have those plates.' I have generally enter- 
tained strong objections to the developing doctrine, that we 
sprang from some lower life like the tadpole, and so up through 
the mo ) key to the man; but, I said, if that is so, it is pretty 
hard on the tadpoles and the monkeys that they should have 
to be linked to such a speciaien of littleness. This man had a 
good business and money at interest. I will not name him. I 
only hope out of pity for him, that if he ever reads this book, 
he will put his hand over this page, so not to see it, for if he 
ever should read this part of his history, he will want to get 
his neighbors to set up nights with him, and help him to hate 
himself. Well, it seems that I am not out of the woods yet, 
and I don't know as I ought to expect to be while here in the 
flesh ; but of one thing I am sure, and that is this, if a poor fel- 
low that has met every mishap to which mortal man is subject 
can get out of the woods by persevering, honest effort, I am the 
man to try. I believe there is in providence something yet in 
store for me, and if there is anything in the saying, that God 
helps those that try and help themselves, I shall be helped. It 
looks to me yet, that God has a work for me to do, especially 
when I look back to my commencement in life, and trace his 
watchful hand over all the strange road of life thus far, through 
all the dangers I have met in various parts of the world, both 
by sea and land, in civil and in military life. I hope my book 
which I now present, will find a sale sufficiently ready and ex- 
tensive to enable me to procure such works as I need, to fit me 
better to proclaim the glorious gospel of salvation to the poor 
outcast. Oh, how glad I am, that Jesus came not to call the 



PRIVATIONS OF THE POOB. 279 

righteous, but sinners to repentance. My highest ambition is 
to be unfettered by this cruel poverty, so to preach the un- 
searchable riches of the kingdom to men, and to do it without 
fear or favor. This is my faith, that I shall realize a support 
from this plain, truthful, unvarnished history of my life, so to 
be independent of a salary, as independent as Paul was. In 
looking over the field that is all ' white and ready for the har- 
vest,' I am persuaded, that to be successful, much of the modern 
preaching is fruitless, and that ministers and churches have got 
to disabuse themselves of the idea, that prosperity consists in 
getting a splendid church, with a spire that kisses the skies, 
with rich carpets, expensive pews and altars, and grand organs, 
and a trained choir to praise God for them, and a congregation 
numerous and rich enough to run the machine and pay the bills, 
and then settle down at ease, and when a poor man thinks of 
joining them, give him to understand that the church is full. In 
some of our large churches, the poor are barred out as truly as 
if the sexton stood at the door and told them they w r ere not 
wanted within, and it is done in this way. The pews in some 
churches are sold at prices ranging from one hundred to a thou- 
sand dollars, and sometimes several thousand dollars, and then 
to meet the big salaries of ministers, choirs, organists, sextons, 
and to pay for fuel, lights, repairs, and insurance, the pews are 
taxed from fifty up to five hundred dollars each. And so heart- 
broken and discouraged, the poor man, and sometimes the poor 
members, are driven away, because they can't support their 
families and pay such bills. 

In saying these plain things, and what may appear to some 
to be hard things, I do it to clear my conscience, and to strike 
a blow in behalf of the suffering poor whose bitter experience 
demands it. My own early sufferings are indelibly stamped on 
every fibre of my being, and my later trials have only con- 
firmed it; so that who suffers 'and I burn not? I would be 
alike untrue to my early experience and my latest knowledge 
and awfully untrue to God's grandest work, to the travail of 



280 WAT TO DO GOOD. 

Christ's great soul, if I failed to do this. And while I make 
these painfully true statements and send them abroad to the 
world, I make an honest confession, which will be appreciated 
by a very large class of men, who acknowledge that we are 
coming at the truth and will hope for a practical application of 
it, which may prove the salvation of many souls. I would not 
forget how many noble men whom God has blessed with w 7 ealth, 
are- doing as well as they know for the needy, and would do 
more, much more, if they could have some practical hints 
thrown out that would open to them deeper and wider fields 
for effort and Christian usefulness, and when they read this 
book, and see where the hand can be put to lighten the loads 
of the distressed, will thank Ambler for pointing out the way, 
in his homely manner, to do good. 

God sometimes takes worms to thresh mountains, and it is 
written that ' God hath chosen the foolish things of the world 
to confound the wise, and God hath chosen the w T eak things of 
the world to confound the things which are mighty. And base 
things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God 
chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought the 
things which are ; that no flesh should glory in his presence.' 
The things which secure the blessings of God are so simple, 
that they are often overlooked. I often think of the terrible 
efforts a class made once, to spell the name of a river. They 
seemed to think that the teacher meant to tax their ingenuity 
to the utmost when he asked them to spell the word Po, and 
they tried every imaginable hard way to spell it, but failed ; 
and when it come to the lowest one in his class to try it, the 
poor simple boy spelled it P-o, Po, and went to the head. 
Sometimes almost every imaginable hard way is tried to love 
God, and men fail to do so until they begin to love men, and 
when they find them hungry and give them bread, then they 
for the first time begin to comprehend the secret of loving 
God. Now any course that in any way relieves and lightens 
the loads that human hearts have to bear, is so much done to, 
and for the Saviour of men. 



MONEYLESS MAN. 281 

It is said by some, * Ambler, you are wrong, in our rich and 
costly churches we have pews on purpose for the poor, and we 
give them sittings, and surely we are helping them, and they 
are charitably treated ; they can hear the gospel for the coming, 
if they will only consent to listen to it.' All that is true enough, 
but here is where the shoe often pinches the poor the hardest. 
They say it is bad enough to be poor without sitting them apart 
in a portion of the church assigned for such, so that everybody 
that comes in shall know that they belong to the poor class. 
The poor like to be thrown in among the rich sometimes, in 
such a way that their poverty may not always be known ; and 
it is sometimes very pleasant for them to pass off among the 
crowd without boing noticed as the poor, and I have no doubt 
it is sometimes quite flattering to them to be even mistaken 
for persons in easy circumstances. 

' Is there no place on the face of this earth, 
Where charity dwelleth, where virtue hath birth? 
Where the bosom in mercy and kindness will heave, 
And the poor and the wretched may ask and receive? 
Where quickly a knock from the needy and poor 
Will bring some kind angel to open the door? 
Ah, search where you will, wherever you can, 
There's no open door for a moneyless man. 

' Go look in yon hall where the chandelier's light 
Drives off with its splendor the darkness of night; 
Where the rich hanging velvets in shadowy folds 
Sweep gracefully down with their trimmings of gold. 
Aye, look in that hall, and find if you can, 
A welcoming smile for a moneyless man. 

' Go look in yon church with its cloud-reaching spire, 
That throws back to the sun its reflection of fire ; 
Where the arches and columns are gorgeous within, 
And the walls seem as pure as a soul without sin. 
Then walk down the aisles, see the rich and the great, 
In the pomp and the pride of their wordly estate ; 
Then go to their dwellings, and find if you can 
A welcoming look for a moneyless man. 



282 MONEYLESS MAN. 

( Go look at yon judge with his dark flowing gown, 
And the scales of the law weighing equally down, 
Who frowns on the weak and smiles on the strong, 
And punishes right, whilst he justifies wrong; 
Where the jurors their lips on the Bible have laid, 
To render a verdict they've already made. 
Go there in that court-room, and find if you can, 
Any law for the cause of a moneyless man. 

*Go look in yon bank where mammon has told 
His hundreds and thousands of silver and gold, 
Where safe from the hands of the starving and poor, 
Lie heaps upon heaps of the glittering ore. 
Walk up to the counter; ah, there you may stay, 
Till your limbs shall grow old and your hairs shall turn gray; 
For you'll find at the bank not one of the clan, 
With a dollar to lend to a moneyless man. 

* Then go to your hovel where no raven has fed 
The wife who has suffered so long for her bread, 
Kneel down by her pallet and kiss the death frost. 
From the cold icy forehead of her you have lost. 
Then turn to the motherless babes that are left, 
Of money and friends they are wholly bereft; 
Not one in a hundred will lend you a hand, 
But turn, oh how coldly, from a moneyless man.' 

A revolution has got to come off in our churches, as radical 
as ever took place in the country, to purify them and put them 
upon the ground where they can gather in the poor as well as 
the rich, and do the work set for them by the Master. We have 
no objection to good buildings, rich and comfortable, if the re- 
ligion of the church and Christianity is not sacrificed thereby, and 
worship in these churches made so expensive as to drive the poor 
entirely from them. How men can sit and enjoy themselves, 
and feel no pricking in their consciences amidst such gorgeous 
surroundings, when the very splendor about them bars out God's 
poor, and leaves them a prey to any outside influence that cor- 
ruption can bring to bear upon them, I can't see. Some- 
thing must be ' rotten in Denmark.' Consciences ! are there any 



OTHERS THINK AS I DO, 283 

among such? It has become really a question with many 
thoughtful men, and lest my reader shall think it only a little 
spleen of mine to say such things, I will quote from the Chris- 
tian Union, Vol. VI, No. 23, a brief article headed ' Con- 
science of Religious Societies? and reads thus : ' I make no com- 
plaint of religious societies, for I have experience enough among 
them to know that they are open to the same objections of cor- 
porations in general. They are not responsible. They have no 
souls. They will do, in their corporate capacity, what every in- 
dividual of them would be ashamed to do as a private citizen. 
Do I not know what small minorities, what little unscrupulous 
factions, often control them. How many excellent, devoted, long- 
tried ministers have been sacrificed by nine-tenths of their mem- 
bers, to conciliate and retain less than one-tenth, and those often 
of the most bigoted and over-bearing character? How often 
have I seen the best people in those societies, the most liberal 
and progressive, giving up everything to the worst and most 
illiberal for the sake of peace and harmony, which they never 
get? How often have I seen the old national compromises of 
slavery acted over again here with similar results ! There is 
and can be no peace with despotism of any kind ; but that of 
death, on one side or the other.'' How true! There are indi- 
vidual consciences working in some of the members; but these 
are stifled to some extent, lest they shall be called factious, and 
so, rather than to raise the alarm and take the consequences of 
a little commotion, they allow themselves to drift along, when 
to a thoughtful and observing mind the roar of the breakers is 
already heard, and the seething waters will soon close over 
them unless they wake to hear the cry of Jesus, in the wants 
and neglect of the poor. Is it not a fact, that Christ is barred 
from many a church ? It is a painful fact, or God's word is a 
farce. Oh, with what astonishment neglecters of God's poor 
will wake up! 'When the Son of Man shall come in his glory 
and all the holy angels with him,' and shall say to them, ' I was 
a stranger, and ye took me not in ; naked, and ye clothed me 



284 XT EXPERIENCE. 

not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.' Oh, what will 
it avail them, when they shall answer him, l saying, Lord, when 
saw we thee a hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or 
sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall 
he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye 
did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. 
And these shall go away into eVerlasting punishment ; but the 
righteous into life eternal.' 

If I know anything of the love of God, it is to love and pity 
the poor, and to comfort and raise them up. How much com- 
fort and how much encouragement it was to me, when I was a 
poor drunkard and under conviction for sin, to have Rev. Mr. 
Pike take me by the hand and say, ' God bless you.' I was 
like the poor man journeying from Jerusalem to Jericho. I 
had fallen among thieves. I had been stripped, and wounded, 
and left half dead. I had seen the priest go by on the other 
side, and also the Levite, both turning up their noses at poor 
drunken Ambler; both with flowing robes and lofty mien, — 
dignity enough to scare a man, while over such mockery the 
enemies of God rejoiced, and loud the unbeliever laughed, 
boasting a life of fairer character than theirs ; but when the 
good Samaritan took me by the hand, and into my poor bruised 
and wounded soul poured sympathy, in such golden words, and 
recognized me as a fellow man, it gave me hope and comfort, 
and waked in my heart holy purposes of reform, with fullest 
faith through God I should do valiantly, and come off a con- 
queror and a man, yea, a Christian. 

I had seen enough of this hollow-hearted mockery, these 
whited sepulchres, to make me feel as though a general protest 
should be entered against it all ; and I thought if the devil did 
not get them, — I mean all those that are like graves which ap- 
pear not, for the life of me I could not see any use in having 
any devil. I said, am I alone in this feeling, in this seeing? 
Am I a misanthrope ? When picking up Pollok's Course of 
Time, I read of Priests and Levites in language that seemed 



MY EXPERIENCE. 285 

on fire. His indignation burned in looking at those who 'swore 
away all love of filthy lucre, all desire of earthly pomp, and 
yet a princely seat they liked, and to the clink of Mammon's 
box gave most rapacious ear,' until in language of awful mean- 
ing he cried of such, 'Most guilty, villainous, dishonest man! 
Wolf in the clothing of the gentle lamb! Dark traitor in Mes- 
siah's holy camp ! Leper in saintly garb ! Assassin masked in 
virtue's robe! Vile hypocrite accursed! I strive in vain to 
set his evil forth. The words' that should sufficiently accurse 
and execrate such reprobate, had need come glowing from the 
lips of eldest hell. Among the saddest in the den of woe. 
Thou sawest him the saddest, 'mong the damned most damned? 
I had seen so much of this awful separateness, this 'stand thou 
yonder, for I am holier than thou,' and I had felt so much of 
this spirit of ' touch me not lest I be defiled,' that after my 
conversion, my heart went out so after the lost sheep, that in 
pity and in tears I sought them, and many a home have I made 
happy. I was impressed deeply with the fact, that to fill God's 
house, Christian men and women must go out into the high- 
ways and hedges and compel them to come in, with loving 
hearts, and with the gentleness and charity of Jesus, win them 
away from death to life, talking with them of our own escape, 
remembering our own follies and pitying them in theirs, and 
making always only this difference. That we are all short- 
comers, and that while one is pardoned and happy in hope, the 
other may be, if he will only repent and believe. Oh, in this 
way how many, how many might be brought in to the fold who 
are now lost sheep! Never was I more forcibly struck with 
what seemed to me to be the real work of Christian men, than 
in observing the result of the earnest efforts of some Christians 
in Portland, who go down on the wharves to talk to men, and 
into an old sail-loft on Sabbath mornings to talk and pray with 
whoever will come in, and then go over to the jail to weep 
with the poor unfortunates there, and pray with them and tell 
them of the Saviour's love, and take them by the hand with a 



286 CHRISTIAN WORKERS. 

warm grasp that means good-will, and give them good advice 
and assure them if they will only try to do right, they shall 
have their sympathy, and they will gladly recognize them too 
on the street, and when they come to the meeting, as brothers 
for whom a Saviour bled. And many of these unfortunates 
have got converted and are now living epistles of God's power. 
It would seem that in this age of light, such a work would be 
encouraged, especially by every minister. Yet when one min- 
ister in Portland, who shall be nameless, was approached con- 
cerning this very work of visiting the poor prisoners in the jail, 
answered with a sneer, that he did not take any stock in that 
concern. "Well, thank God, there are men who are just glad to 
invest all their powers to do good in that direction, and feel 
that it pays, and will pay, especially when it shall be said at 
last, 'inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of one of 
these, ye have done it unto me.' I cannot name the good men 
who take all the stock they can handle, as God's stewards, in 
the jails, on the wharves, out in the highways and hedges, be- 
side the sick-bed, in the hovel, among the drunken, and who 

Tell him hope doth yet remain, 
If he only will abstain. 

I will not name the men whose goodness is sometimes ques- 
tioned by those whose very rottenness of heart is the standard 
by which they judge other and better men, when they see a team 
hitched by some poor dwelling where people live who are not 
all angels ; but the record of these Christian workers is kept by 
him who watches with eager eyes the pilgrim who fears not to 
go where lives a soul for whom the Saviour died, to carry with 
him, into those abodes of poverty and death the light of God's 
wondrous love. These men have a bulwark, a tower of strength 
to keep them from seduction and death, and fear not the re- 
proach of men ; but with an inward purpose they go forth to 
meet the demands of the outcast and despised for whom Christ 
died. « How much is this like the work of Christ ! But the race 



GOOD STOCK. 287 

of the Pharisees is not all dead. There are lots of these old 
double and twisted hypocrites, that act just as their old fathers 
did. How very like ! Just go back nearly nineteen hundred 
years ago, and«ee Jesus sitting 'at meat in the house, behold 
many publicans and sinners came and sat down with him and 
his disciples. And when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto 
his disciples, Why eateth your Master with publicans and sin- 
ners,' which means substantially, we don't take any stock in 
that company. ' But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them: 
they that be whole need not a physician, but they that are 
sick.' See how Christ rebuked these ignorant bigots, not that 
they were not learned in the law, and understood Hebrew, and 
Greek and Latin; but they were ignorant of the first rudiments 
of Christianity. Hear the Master put the burning truth, blis- 
tering hot, to these old villains. ' But go ye and learn what that 
meaneth, I will have mercy and not sacrifice ; for I am not come 
to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.' That's the 
company I take stock in. That's the company Captain S. takes 
stock in, and I should not wonder if he should ask some of my 
readers, when they come to Portland, to go to jail with him. 
If he does, go right along doubting not, and if he asks you to 
take a little stock in his enterprise of getting shoes to cover 
the little bare feet of the children, and good comfortable clothes 
for them, so they can go to Sunday School and appear respect- 
ably on the street, or to get a coffin for some poor soul and pay 
the funeral charges so they can be decently buried, don't be 
afraid to go your bottom dollar. It will pay better than any 
stock on change. It yields a hundred per cent in this life, and 
in the world to come life everlasting. My reader will see the 
point I am driving at, and, of course, will allow me to swing 
round a little, and make my appeal in behalf of God's poor. 



288 SEBMOJV ON THE LOST SHEEP. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 



"While reading some of these suggestions in my manuscript 
about the poor, and the way to do them good, the work that 
had got to be done to get men from the highways and hedges 
into the house of God, and the revolution that is needed in the 
churches to get them into working order, to some of my friends 
before the book was finished, they said to me, ' Ambler, those 
are God's truths. Oh, how much might be done, if good men 
would only go among the poor and see them in their homes, so 
to know how to pity them and help them ! Ambler, I want 
you to preach a sermon in your book right on this very matter, 
and I want to give you a text. It is this:' 

LUKE 15: 3-7. 

And he spake this parable unto them, saying, What man of you having a 
hundred sheep if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine 
in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost until he find it? And 
when he hath found it he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And 
when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbors, say- 
ing unto them, rejoice with me ; for I have found my sheep which was 
lost. I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner 
that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons which need 
no repentance. 

Well, I said, I will, and so wherever this book goes, there 
goes the sermon on the lost sheep. Indeed my narrative is of 
lost sheep. I knew how to pity them. I was a lost sheep 
in a howling wilderness, and had been torn by the dogs and 



SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 289 

wolves in a terrible manner ; but the good Shepherd found me, 
and took me in his arms and brought me back to his fold. I 
hope my whole book goes to show how much the poor stray 
lambs suffer, and will lead many to come to the good Shepherd, 
who giveth his life for the sheep. It won't be expected that a 
poor man like me, who never attended school a day in my life, 
will be very scholastic, or very methodical in laying out my 
subject, and discussing it in all its details. I don't think much 
of the position which some men take in making a sermon, viz., 
that it must be clear at all events, even though it be cold enough 
to freeze the warmest and deepest fountains of the human heart. 
I go for a warm sermon, if it is not so handsome. I almost 
offended my printer in the matter of the title-page of this book, 
on this very point. He has a' fine eye for the artistic, and 
pointed out to me a portion I had prepared for the title-page 
which he wanted left out, as the page would be so crowded as 
to mar its beauty, its artistic design ; and I had to differ with 
him, and told him that he made me think of some ministers 
who thought more of making their sermons clear than of mak- 
ing them effectual, and who were determined that the sermon- 
izer should stand out prominently in the foreground, if the de- 
sire to save souls from death did not once appear in the whole 
effort. It is like playing Hamlet, with Hamlet left out. I said 
to my printer, don't strike out that portion of my title-page 
where it says ' The whole illustrating the fact with which we 
start. That truth is stranger than fiction, and much more healthy 
for the morals of the people] for that is the gist of the whole 
thing. I want the moral to appear, if the artist is wholly lost 
sight of, so if the title-page should seem to be a little crowded, 
the reader will lay it all to Ambler, and not question the taste 
of the printer. In presenting to my readers the marrow and 
fatness of this long text, I shall tie myself down upon nobody's 
iron bedstead, and if I should not be able to make as many 
heads to my sermon as the beast had which was described in 
the apocalypse, I shall not be sorry. My object is to make 
19 



290 SEEMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

known what the Saviour designed to teach by this beautiful 
parable. The better it is understood, the more attractive and 
overpowering appears the loving heart of the good Shepherd. 
Oh, ye wandering sheep, hear his voice. 'I am the good Shep- 
herd; the good Shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. Bat he 
that is a hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep 
are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and 
fleeth ; and the wolf catcheth them, and ssattereth the sheep. 
The hireling fleeth, because he is a hireling and careth not for 
the sheep. I am the good Shepherd, and I lay down my life for 
the sheep, and other sheep I have which are not of this fold. 
Them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice ; and 
there shall be one fold and one Shepherd.' He don't go out 
with dogs and a club to worry and beat them, and drive them 
back and fill them with terror; but calls after them, c Come unto 
me,' ye hungry starving ones. I am the good Shepherd. The 
wolves will catch and scatter you if you continue to wander, 
the hireling fleeth, he don't care for you when the wolf comes, 
when distress comes upon you, because he is a hireling; but I 
love you, poor, lonely, wandering ones; cold mountains and the 
midnight air witnesseth it, though it be a bitter cup, I lay down 
my life for the sheep. 

I am not a thief. The thief comes to steal and destroy. 
Hear the Prophet Ezekiel in the thirty-fourth chapter. ' And 
the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Son of man 
prophecy against the shepherds of Israel, prophesy and say 
unto them, Thus saith the Lord God unto the shepherds, wo 
be to the shepherds of Israel that do feed themselves ! Should 
not the shepherds feed the flock? Ye eat the fat and ye clothe 
yourselves with the wool, ye kill them that arc fed, but ye feed 
not the flock. The diseased have ye not strengthened; neither 
have ye healed that which was sick; neither have ye bound 
up that which was broken ; neither have ye brought again that 
which was driven away; neither have ye sought that which 
was lost; but with force and with cruelty have ye ruled them, 



SERMON ON TUE LOST SHEEP. 291 

and they were scattered because there is no shepherd (that 
careth for them), and they became meat to all the beasts of 
the field when they were scattered. My sheep wandered 
through all the mountains, and upon every high hill: yea, my 
flock was scattered upon all the face of the earth, and none 
did search or seek after them. Therefore, ye shepherds hear 
the word of the Lord ; thus saith the Lord God, Behold, I am 
against the shepherds (unfaithful ones), and I will require my 
flock at their hand, and cause them to cease from feeding tho 
flock; neither shall the shepherds feed themselves any more; 
for I will deliver my flock from their mouth, that they may not 
be meat for them. Behold I, even I, will both search my sheep, 
and seek them out. As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the 
day that he is among his sheep that are scattered ; so will I 
seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places 
where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day. 
And I will bring them out from the people, and gather them 
from the countries, and will bring them to their own land and 
feed them upon the mountains of Israel by the rivers, and in 
all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them in a 
good pasture, and upon the high mountains shall their fold be; 
there shall they lie in a good field, and in a fat pasture shall 
they feed. I will feed my flock. I will seek that which was 
lost, and bring again that which was driven away, and will 
bind up that which was broken (glory to God), and will 
strengthen that which was sick; but I will destroy the fat and 
the strong (hear that ye hirelings). I will feed them with 
judgment. Seemeth it a small thing unto you that ye. have 
eaten the good pasture; but must ye foul the residue with 
your feet? Because ye have thrust with side and with shoul- 
der, and pushed all the diseased with your horns until ye have 
scattered them abroad. Therefore will I save my flock, and I 
will set up one shepherd over them, and he shall feed them, 
even my servant David ; he shall feed them, and he shall bo 
their shepherd.' Glorious shepherd that ! The bleating of tho 



4 

292 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

scattered and lost ones find pity in him. I suppose a great 
and grand object is presented in this parable, which constitutes 
the text and the substance for discussion. I take it, that the 
lost sheep spoken of, means especially the poor sinner totally 
gone astray. And as I am not a born theologian, but rather 
of a martial turn, and having been trained to a soldier's life, 
I shall not divide my subject into firstlies and so on up to the 
eighteenthlies ; but shall arrange it rather as I would drill a 
company. I will put my thoughts into sections, and if neces- 
sary, into divisions, any way that the order of truth may be 
preserved in the mind of the reader, and the details followed 
out from the sections, into what divisions may be needful. 
Therefore, calling my thoughts men, I will put them into four 
sections. 

First section, then, to the front. What is meant by the lost 



The second section to be drilled a little in the way to find the 
lost sheep. 

The third section to receive some attention as to the preju- 
dices to be met, and what men have to endure in finding the 
lost sheep. 

TJie fourth section will receive attention as a victor return- 
ing home bearing the lost sheep, and the joy of the multitude 
over what has been found. 

First section, attention! What is meant by the lost sheep? 
There are some men who imagine that the term lost sheep 
applies to man generally, and the ninety and nine, that the 
good shepherd leaves when he goes for the lost one, means the 
angels who have not fallen, and that they are in proportion to 
men, as ninety and nine to one, and these are the just persons 
that needeth no repentance. This opinion is entitled to some 
respect. It is at least ingenious, and it may not be untrue ; 
but to my mind /there are some objections to it. It is true that 
angels who have kept their first estate need no repentance, and 
it is probably true, that there are outbursts of joy when a sin- 



SERMON 02V THE LOST SHEEP. 293 

ner breaks from the destroyer and is converted, more than over 
ninety-nine angels who have always been happy in the home 
and service of God, as we should see, for an illustration, on 
board a ship, although there may be a thousand souls on board ; 
yet if one of their number falls overboard, the ship is hove to, 
and boats are lowered and manned while the struggling man 
is buffeting with the waves; all are watching with painful inter- 
est the receding form of the strong swimmer, until the boat 
reaches him, when, as he is lifted in, the shout goes up, ' a man 
saved.' There is enthusiasm and wild delight over his rescue, 
not that he is of more importance than others ; but that being 
lost, he is now saved. 

The way some dispose of this view, of who is meant by the 
ninety-nine sheep, is this. ' The text says just persons. Now 
angels are not persons, therefore angels can't be meant.' A very 
silly objection this, for there is likely to be personality to an 
angel, as well as to a man. Clark says the original word sim- 
ply meant just ones, and the term applies with as much pro- 
priety to angels as to men ; but there were good men who were 
not profligate, that may be meant by the just persons in opposi- 
tion to a Gentile, or a heedless, open sinner. The Jews had many 
distinctions of this kind in their writings. A great many had been 
brought up to a regular sober course of life, and being true and 
just in their dealings, they differed materially from the heathen 
about them (see the first verse of this chapter). As, therefore, 
these just persons are put over against the extortioners and 
heathen, they needed no repentance in comparison with the 
others. But let us be safe in this matter. I think the Gentiles 
are particularly referred to. It was thought to be altogether 
aside from God's plan to save a Gentile, and many very good 
men thought so. Good old Cornelius and Peter thought so. 
Let us read Acts 10th, 'There was a certain man in Cesarea 
called Cornelius, a centurion of the band called the Italian 
band. A devout man, and one that feared God with all his 
house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God 



294 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

always. He saw in a vision, evidently, about the ninth hour of 
the day, an angel of God coming in to him, and saying unto 
him, Cornelius. And when he looked on him, he was afraid, 
and said, What is it, Lord ? And he said unto him, Thy prayers 
and thine alms are come up for a memorial before God. And 
now send men to Joppa, and call for one Simon, whose surname 
is Peter. He lodgeth with one Simon a tanner, whose house is 
by the sea-side ; he shall tell thee what thou oughtest to do.' 
This separate feeling was chronic even among these good old 
souls, and nothing short of God Almighty, with angels, visions, 
and all manner of four-footed thing.*, could beat it into them, how 
these lost sheep could be found. 

'And when the angel which spake unto Cornelius was de- 
parted, he called two of his household servants, and a devout 
soldier of them that waited on him continually; and when he 
had declared all these things unto them, he sent them to Joppa. 
On the morrow, as they went on their journey, and drew nigh 
unto the city, Peter went up upon the house-top to pray, about 
the sixth hour. And he became very hungry, and would have 
eaten ; but while they made ready, he fell into a trance, and 
saw heaven opened, and a certain vessel descending unto him, 
as it had been a great sheet knit at the four corners, and let 
down to the earth; wherein were all manner of four-footed 
beasts of the earth, and wild beasts, and creeping things, and 
fowls of the air. And there came a voice to him, Rise, Peter; 
kill, and cat. But Peter said, Not so, Lord ; for I have never 
eaten anything that is common or unclean. And the voice 
spake unto him again the second time, What God hath cleansed 
that call not thou common. This was done thrice. Now, while 
Peter doubted in himself what this vision which he had seen 
should mean, behold, the men which were sent from Cornelius 
had made inquiry for Simon's house, and stood before the gate, 
and called, and asked whether Simon, which was surnamed Pe- 
ter, were lodged there. 

1 While Peter thought on the vision, the Spirit said unto him, 



SER3WN ON THE LOST SHEEP. 295 

Behold, three men seek thee. Arise, therefore, and get thee 
down, and go with them, doubting nothing; for I have sent 
them. Then Peter went down to the men which were sent 
unto him from Cornelius; and said, Behold, I am he whom ye 
seek ; what is the cause wherefore ye are come ? And they said, 
Cornelius, the centurion, a just man, and one that feareth God, 
and of good report among all the nation of the Jews, was 
warned from God by a holy angel, to send for thee into his 
house, and to hear words of thee. Then he called them in 
and lodged them. And on the morrow Peter went away with 
them, and certain brethren from Joppa accompanied him. And 
on the morrow after, they entered into Cesarea. And Cornelius 
waited for them, and had called together his kinsmen and near 
friends. And as Peter was coining in, Cornelius met him, and 
fell down at his feet, and worshipped him. But Peter took him 
up, saying, Stand up; I myself also am a man. And as he 
talked with him, he went in, and found many that were come 
together.' Now Peter begins to preach like a Christian minis- 
ter, just hear him, i And he said unto them, Ye know how that 
it is an unlawful thing for a man that is a Jew to keep company 
with, or come unto one of another nation ; but God hath showed 
me that I should not call any man common or unclean. There- 
fore came I unto you without gainsaying, as soon as I was sent 
for ; I ask, therefore, for what intent ye have sent for me?' Then 
Cornelius told him the whole story about what he experienced 
when he was praying,' the answer God gave him, and how God 
had sent him to Peter for further instruction. 

'Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, of a truth I per- 
ceive that God is no respecter of persons; but in every nation, 
he that feareth him and worketh righteousness, is accepted 
with him. The word which God sent unto the children of Is- 
rael, preaching peace by Jesus Christ Che is Lord of all) ; that 
word, I say, ye know, how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth 
with the Holy Ghost and with power; who went about doing 
good and healing all that were oppressed of the devil j' and so 



296 SEBMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

led out was Peter when he threw off his old Jewish prejudice, 
and spoke without notes as the Spirit led him, that it is said, 
1 While Peter yet spake these words, the Holy Ghost fell on all 
them which heard the word, and they of the circumcision 
which believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, 
because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of 
the Holy Ghost.' 

So my readers will see the sheep, the lost sheep, has particular 
reference to the Gentiles, outsiders, the despised and the poor. 
When Peter got back, after preaching this revival sermon, they 
that were of the circumcision took a miff at it, and contended 
with him, saying, ' Thou wentest in to men uncircumcised, and 
didst eat with them ! ' But Peter rehearsed the matter from 
the beginning, telling his experience, and all about the vision, 
and what a glorious time he had preaching to the Gentiles, and 
he said, ' As I began to speak, the Holy Ghost fell on them, as 
on us at the beginning,' and then he said, ' I remembered the 
word of the Lord, how that he said, John indeed baptized with 
water ; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost. Foras- 
much, then, as God gave them the gift as he did unto us who 
believed in the Lord Jesus Christ ; what was I that I could 
withstand God ? ' When they heard Peter's explanation, and 
found that he would not back down from this liberal doctrine, 
it is said, 'they held their peace, and glorified God, saying, 
Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto 
life.' 

Having handled my first section and shown who are the lost 
sheep, it may go to the rear, until I get ready to bring up my 
reserves for a final charge. I will now take up the second sec- 
Hon for a little skirmishing after the lost sheep. 

As I understand it, the nature of the sheep should be well 
studied, especially of a lost sheep, — the sinner totally gone 
astray. A stray sheep is a simple creature in a special sense. 
When pursued by dogs and wolves, and knowing themselves 
to be completely separated from the flock, they as readily run 



SEBMON OJSf THE LOST SHEEP. 297 

in an opposite direction from the fold and right into danger 
and destruction, as toward home and the flock. 

How complete a type is the lost sheep of the poor, heedless, 
thoughtless sinner. The sheep is the simplest of all animals 
as to its ability to find its way back to the fold. The swine, 
without any apparent uneasiness or effort, will root around and 
at last join the herd; but the sheep that has been separated 
from the flock, gives by its movements indications of its being 
astray, and yet apparently without the least judgment which 
way to go to find the flock, or safety, and in its wildness and 
fear, will run from a friend as quickly as from a foe. Yet it is 
often heard bleating for the flock, and uneasy, feeding a few 
moments apparently careless of its lost condition, yet startled 
by the falling leaf, and wild with fright at the baying of the 
dog, or the howling of the wolf. There is no creature that so 
much needs a good shepherd to go after it, that is so incapable 
of finding its way back. I have often heard the poor creatures 
bleating afar off upon the sides of the mountains, after the 
night had set in, and running in an opposite direction, running 
right into danger among the very enemies it fears. There is 
nothing so defenceless, no sight so sad. Even the fowls have 
been known to pick out the eyes of wandering lambs, and then 
the poor blind things are destroyed by the birds of prey at 
their leisure. In this way the devil seeketh whom he may de- 
vour. He blinds them with motes and beams with which he 
fills their eyes, and then worries and destroys them. All ways 
6eem alike to the poor blind wanderer. 

There is no creature we seek that requires to be sought after 
with so much care and caution. A great many times we have 
to speak, and with a gentle winning voice to these frightened 
6traying ones, to convince them that it is the voice of a friend, 
and not of an enemy ; and it is often necessary to take a little 
salt along, and let them taste it often, before they will let you 
take them in your arms and bring them to the fold. In order 



298 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

to handle ray second section fully and finish up the instructions 
which I wish to give on this point, I will put it into divisions, 

1. Whatever else you may lack, let there be no lacJc of pity 
for the unfortunate. In affliction, the heart cries out for this. 
Job, in his distress, cried out, c Have pity upon me, have pity 
upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God hath touched 
me." Solomon says, 'He that hath pity on the poor lendeth to 
the Lord.' This is not a pity in word, but in deed; often a 
loaf of bread, a pair of shoes, a dress, a warm garment is a 
regular John to prepare the way of the Lord, and many a heart 
has been reached through the back, or an empty stomach, that 
all the fine things a man could say could not reach. ' Like as 
a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear 
him.' If a soul has erred, don't break his teeth with it ; but 
tell him of Jesus and his compassion. Oh, think how weary 
and foot-sore and hungry the poor sheep may be; see the 
beautiful fleece torn and hanging in shreds, and as the good 
shepherd has borne with you, so try to help the poor wanderer 
over the rough way back to the fold. Lay the bruised and 
wounded one on your shoulder, and bear it along, carry them 
in your arms, any way to get them home. 

2. J^et your voice be that of the good shepherd. The wan- 
dering sheep know the voice of love, and it wins them. It is 
hard to fight against it. I will not name the man ; but I know 
a man who once went to visit a sick man to pray with him, 
and when he got to the house, things looked as though the 
family were suffering for things to make them comfortable, and 
the man, before he knelt down to pray, put a few dollars into 
the hand of the sick man, and then prayed, and that prayer 
reached the ear of Jehovah, and the heart of the poor uncon- 
verted man; like Cornelius, the prayers and alms done the 
work, and the sick man was made comfortable, and converted 
too. 

Get the dear children of the poor, and put good warm clothes 
on them, and bring them into Sunday school, and learn them 



SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 299 

to sing sweet songs, and to speak, and teach them of Christ; 
tell them all about the good Shepherd, how he carries the lambs 
in his bosom, and sec what it will help you to do. Take the 
lamb from the wildest mother in your arms, and carry it along, 
and the old sheep will follow. They won't be separated. How 
often I have got the little children of the poor and clothed 
them up nice, and got them into the Sunday school, and got 
them to singing their little hymns, and pretty soon the mother 
would come in; and the next I would see would be the father; 
ely as a wandering sheep, he would just slip inside of the door, 
and pop right down in the first seat he came to, already to take 
his hat and leave, if anybody hardly looked that way ; and yet, 
in a little while, by gentle approaches, w T as reached and saved. 
Thank God, the lost mag be found if a man will only lay him- 
self out for the work. 

My third division under the second section is this: Don't go 
pell-me 7 l at a poor wandering sheep, and tell him he is the 
wickedest man in the icorld, and if he dorCt make a rush for 
the fold he w ill be damned; but use good judgment in your 
approaches. There is no work that requires good common 
sense more than the work of finding the lost sheep and getting 
them back, to the fold. It is said, 'he that winncth souls is 
wise,' which means that it requires wisdom and prudence. I 
can't illustrate what I want to make plain better than to tell 
you a story about the good Shepherd. He traveled a great 
deal, and often got weary in the work. When traveling on 
foot from Judea down into Galilee, he got as far as Samaria, 
and, being wearied with his journey, he sat down on the curb 
at the well to rest, having traveled several hours in the heat 
and dust. It was now about noon, and while resting on the 
well, a woman of Samaria came to the well to draw water. Je- 
sus did not begin to tell her what a sinner she had been, 
although she was a hard case ; but he introduced himself by 
asking her for a drink of water. I don't suppose a Jew ever 
thought this lost sheep could be saved, and probably this was 



300 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

the first time that ever one condescended to speak with her, for 
she was astonished, and said, ' How is it that thou, being a Jew, 
askest drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? for the 
Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans.' This woman, by 
this wise introduction, became at once, as you see, an inquirer 
and the good Shepherd said, ' If thou knewest the gift of God, 
and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou would'st 
have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water.' 
This opened the way for further conversation ; so the woman 
said, 4 Sir, Give me this water, that I thirst not, neither come 
hither to draw.' She wanted the water of life and asked for it, 
thank God; but it did not end there. She was bidden to go call 
her husband. This was a pretty hard thrust ; but she could 
bear it now, as she had got interested in her teacher ; but she 
said, 'I have no husband,' and this was true; but Jesus told 
her just what she had been, until she cried out, c Sir, I perceive 
that thou art a prophet ; ' and when Jesus explained the whole 
matter, ' the woman left her water-pot and went her way into 
the city, and saith to the men : Come, see a man that hath told 
me all things that ever I did ; is not this the Christ ? Then 
they went out of the city and came unto him.' His disciples 
when they got back marvelled that he talked with the woman, 
but it was just like him. 

Here, then, is the pattern for you and I. Don't be afraid to 
talk with the most abandoned, and don't feel as though you are 
not accomplishing anything because the first talk may not be 
directly on the subject of religion. That poor lost sheep may 
go away and say, that sjood man did not feel himself too good 
to speak to me, and will put himself or herself in the way again, 
on purpose to be talked with, and to ask questions. That poor 
lost sheep has been saying, perhaps, in great sadness, c no man 
careth for my soul ; ' but now inwardly they say here is an ex- 
ception. This man does care for me. And they will tell such 
their sorrows, and confess to them their need of religion, and 
then go and tell their friends to come and see a man that is 



SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 301 

looking after the lost sheep, and he will help them to find the 
fold. Whole sermons would fail to tell of all the ways to find 
the lost sheep ; but I must leave this to give some attention to 

m} j# 

TJiird section — viz., The prejudices to he met, and what one 

has to endure in going after the lost sheep. 

Let no one think the road he has got to travel, in hunting 
up the lost sheep, is strewn with flowers. My first division 
of this section is this : The inward prejudice to be overcome. 
It is natural for good men to aspire to higher circles, and it is 
very pleasant to go with and commune with such as we think 
better than ourselves, and often there is felt an inward horror 
of mingling with the multitude that are reeking in filth and 
moral death ; but when the soul is enlarged it will say, c I will 
run in the way of the commandments,' until with proper views 
of Christ's mission, its strongest consolation is drawn from its 
earnest working in the hovels of the poor, and preaching Jesus 
to the outcasts, the prisoners, and the neglected. When Christ 
talked with that woman at the well, and the disciples came and 
prayed him to eat, ' He said, I have meat to eat that ye know 
not of. Therefore the disciples said one to another, Hath any 
man brought him aught to eat ? Jesus saith unto them, My 
meat is to do the will of him that sent me,' and he then said 
to the disciples, just 'lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; 
for they are white already to harvest.' Oh, the sweetness of 
that kind of sanctification, that finds its meat in this blessed 
work.' 

Division second of third section. To make a bolt from the 
ordinary course lays a man liable to be misunderstood, and of- 
ten to bitter persecution. Jesus was called, in derision, a friend 
of publicans and sinners, because he did not heartily denounce 
them, and send down fire from heaven upon them ; but hear 
him defend himself. To the scribes and Pharisees, lawyers and 
chief priests, he says, c Go ye and learn what that meaneth, I 
will have mercy and not sacrifice ; for I am not come to call the 



302 SERMON ON THE LOST SUEEP. 

righteous, but sinners to repentance.' They that be whole 
need not a physician, but they that are sick.' And for nothing 
else but this was he finally put to death. See the good old apos- 
tle Paul in bonds before Agrippa, telling his experience^ He 
was as much a Pharisee as the fattest of them ; but the Tight 
from heaven had shown him this wondrous, this glorious truth, 
that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom 
he was chief, and now see what he had to meet and endure, in 
going after the lost sheep. He shall tell his own story, for you 
would hardly believe it from the lips of any other mortal. It 
is said in Acts 16th, 'They caught Paul and Silas and drew 
them into the market-place, unto the rulers, and the magistrates 
rent off their clothes, and commanded to beat them. And when 
they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into pris- 
on.' A great many whippings the old man got, and he says if 
the Jews are ministers, 'I am more. In labors more abundant, 
in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. 
Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice 
was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered 
shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep ; in jour- 
neyings often, m perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils 
by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in 
the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in per- 
ils among filse brethren, in weariness and painfulness, in wateh- 
ings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and 
nakedness.' No wonder, oh, no wonder the good old man could 
say, ' "Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I 
burn not?' That glorious old soldier knew how to pity his 
comrades in affliction, because of his own bitter experience. 
Arc the disciples sometimes dodging their pursuers, and taxing 
their wits, and their friends, to get away from wicked men ? So 
am I, says Paul, 'I had to go through a window in a basket, and 
be let down by the wall to escape out of their hands.' 

Third division of section three. Christian men are not now 
beaten with stripes, put in prisons, stoned and dragged out of 



SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 303 

cities, and left half dead. Thank God that time has gone by; 
but they are subject to keener weapons, against which it seems 
there is no law of men. The slanderer still lives, and swings 
his lip against the disciple with terrible malignity, and it cuts 
the sensitive soul deeper than whips. No wonder Pollok, in 
his Course of Time, is moved with indignation, and thus draws 
his picture in these words : 

'Slander, the foulest whelp of sin, the man 
In whom this spirit entered, was undone. 
His pillow was the peace of families destroyed, 
His tongue was set on fire of hell, his heart 
Was black as death, his legs were faint with haste 
To propagate the lie his soul had framed. 
From door to door you might have seen him speed, 
Or placed amid a group of gaping fools, 
And whispering in their ears with his foul lips, 
Devising mischief more, and early rose, 
And made most hellish meals of good men's names, 
Peace lied the neighborhood in which he made 
• His haunts, the prudent shunned him and his house 
As one who had a deadly moral plague.' 

I have known a good man to go among the base and low 
and despised to talk to the lost sheep of the good shepherd, 
and how he will take the lame and the sick and carry them in 
his arms, and the next day by some of the devil's watch-dogs 

it was reported that brother was seen to go into a house 

of ill-fame and spend a half an hour. 

This is a trying position for a sensitive, good man, who 
thinks none the less of a good reputation because he has aspired 
to be a Christian ; and often more than he ever did before, be- 
cause he had rather die than wound the cause of his Master. 
Shall he cease to go on his merciful efforts, because Slander 
opens wide his mouth, and breathes over his good name tho 
mildews of death and hell? ' 

Nay, my good brother. Go wherever lives a soul to be saved, 



304 SEB3IOIT 02V THE LOST SHEEP. 

the chiefest of sinners, Christ died for them ; but go clothed 
with the panoply of God. With him for your front guard, and 
your rear wall, nothing shall harm you. You may tread on 
deadly things if God be with you. 

Christ talked with the woman at the well, pardoned another 
convicted of crime, risking everything, even the cause so dear 
to him, stemming the flood that was poured out against him for 
his pity for the fallen. The scribes and Pharisees were great 
sticklers for outward purity, and wanted to eternally settle a 
case against him, so to bring him into disrepute, and blacken this 
merciful religion, and they put their heads together and fixed 
up a case, and then took their time when he was in the temple 
preaching, and brought in a woman whom they said was taken 
in adultery, c and when they had set her in the midst, they said 
unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the 
very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us that such 
should be stoned; but what sayest thou? This they said 
tempting him, that they might have to accuse him? Jesus 
made as though his thoughts were upon something else. ' So 
they continued asking him, he lifted up himself and said unto 
them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a 
stone at her. And again he stooped down and wrote on the 
ground. And they which heard it, being convicted by their 
own consciences, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest 
even unto the last.' A pretty sight that, not one of these old 
hypocrites could stand the test ! All of them had been in the 
same boat, with only this difference, — the woman had been 
caught, and they had not. How Jesus punctured these old 
vacillating theological gas-bags! After they had gone, 'when 
Jesus lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said 
unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no 
man condemned thee ? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus 
said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no more.'' 
In the heart of Jesus there was forgiveness for this lost sheep. 
She was no doubt penitent, and desired forgiveness, and the 



SEBMON OJSf THE LOST SHEEP, 305 

blessed Master dismissed her with this injunction l sin no more? 
and she went away in peace, no doubt, with a strong purpose 
to lead a good life. There is often more hope of a genuine re- 
form, a true practical Christianity among such, than of these 
old unsympathizing, self-conceited bigots, and Jesus said unto 
them, Matt. 21 : 31, 'Verily I say unto you, That the publicans 
and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you.' 

Then go, Christian comrades, go after the lost sheep. The 
world can't say worse things of you than they did of the Cap- 
tain of our salvation. As he went, they said, 'Behold a glut- 
tonous man, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners.' 
They cannot say worse things of you. Say, comrade, did you 
ever notice how grateful these poor lost sheep are to their ben- 
efactors ? How they thank Go4 for the kind word and look that 
won them back to the fold ! 

Let me call your attention to the gratitude of one whom 
Christ had helped and saved. When Captain Jesus went and 
sat down to meat in the housaof a Pharisee, 'Behold, a woman 
in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat 
at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of 
ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began 
to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs 
of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the 
ointment.' Bear thankful soul! but when the Pharisee saw it, 
he said, ' This man, if he were a prophet, would have known 
who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him; for 
she is a sinner. Jesus, answering, said unto him, Simon, I have 
somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. 
There was a certain creditor which had two debtors, one owed 
five hundred pence, the other fifty, and when they had nothing 
to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which 
of them will love him most ? Simon answered, I suppose that 
he to whom he forgave most. Jesus said, thou hast rightly 
judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon,, 
seest thou this woman ? I entered into thine house, thou gavesfc 
20 



306 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

me no water for my feet ; but she hath washed my feet with 
tears (precious drops) and wiped them with the hairs of her head. 
Thou gavest me no kiss ; but this woman, since the time I came 
in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst 
not anoint; but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. 
Wherefore, I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are for- 
given, for she loveth much.' 

So down go these old prejudices. See how these poor 
souls, you have thought there was no mercy for, love when the 
gospel reaches them. Some of the disciples were indignant, 
and when they could find fault with nothing else they said, 'To 
what purpose is this waste? For this ointment might have been 
sold for much and given to the poor. When Jesus understood 
it, he said, Why trouble ye the woman ? Verily I say unto 
you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole 
world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told 
as a memorial of her.'' Oh, this is the way to get at the lost 
sheep ! Instead of being ashamed of these trophies of grace, 
tell it to the world ; yes, tell the vilest, though their sins be as 
scarlet, or red like crimson, they shall be as snow and as wool. 
,Yes, tell them all 

' There is a fountain filled with blood 
Drawn from Immanuel's veins, 
And sinners plunged beneath that flood 
Lose all their guilty stains. 

15 The dying thief rejoiced to see 

That fountain in his day ; 

And Mary Magdalene and me 

Do wash our sins away/ 

Excuse the paraphrase on the last two lines, it is about as I 
feel, 

I now hasten to consider briefly the fourth section, viz., 

The joy when the lost sheep is found. My first division here 

sGhall be . the joy ofMie lost sheep. See how the stray sheep 



SEBMOJV ON THE LOST SHEEP. 307 

manifests it joy when coming back to the flock. It almost for- 
gets to feed; but goes from one sheep to the other with its 
quick, short bleat of gladness and affection, rubbing its nose 
against one, and then another, almost like the kisses between 
the mother and child, when one has been restored to the bosom 
of the other. Who can tell the first glowings of joy, when the 
heart first goes out in sweetly breathing, * Our Father who art 
in heaven.' Oh, it is a joy unspeakable and full of glory. The 
convert calls upon his soul, and all within him, to praise the 
name of the Lord, and he would wake everything into songs 
of praise. They felt just so thousands of years ago. Hear one 
of the ancients: l Praise ye the Lord from the heavens; praise 
him in the heights; praise ye him, all his angels; praise him 
sun and moon; praise him, all ye stars of light; praise him, ye 
heaven of heavens, and ye waters that be above the heavens. 
Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons and all deeps : fire 
and hail, snow and vajDors, stormy wind fulfilling his word : 
mountains and all hills ; fruitful trees, and all cedars : beasts 
and all cattle ; creeping things and flying fowl : kings of the 
earth and all people ; princes and all judges of the earth : both 
young men and maidens; old men and children: let them 
praise the name of the Lord ; for his name alone is excellent ; 
his glory is above the earth and heaven.' Oh, if the heart's 
praise could be embodied in a single sound, no peace jubilee 
with thousands of voices, its string and wind instruments, its 
anvil choruses, its thundering cannon, could wake creation 
with such migbcy thundering anthems of glory as would peal 
on the ears of the slumbering world. 

A second division is the joy among good men. The emo- 
tions felt in Christian hearts are often unspeakable over the lost 
that are found. It was meet, said the father, that the best robe 
be put upon him, that the fatted calf be killed, 'for this my son 
that was lost is found.' I was once in a meeting where a young 
man got converted, whose father had felt much anxiety for him; 
and when he heard his son tell what God had done for him, the 



308 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

old white-headed man was wild with joy, and left the house 
without hat or overcoat, in a wintry night, and with his bald 
head exposed and the few silver locks streaming in the wind 
and snow, run for his home to tell the glad news to his aged 
wife. He missed neither hat nor coat until, running after him 
only as a strong young man, full of vigor, can run, I overtook 
him with both. 

One more division of joy under my fourth section^ and this 
shall conclude the main drill in the action to recover the lost 
sheep, viz. : 

Heaven is filled with joy when the vilest and the meanest of 
all the lost sheep is found. How many Bible figures illustrate 
this fact. Time will only permit one strong statement to sup- 
port this division. As there is joy over the lost sheep that is 
found, Jesus says, l I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in 
heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety 
and nine just persons, which need no repentance.' 'I say unto 
you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God, over 
one sinner that repenteth.' In contemplating what the Captain 
of our salvation should work out, how he should save the lost 
sheep, the heavens rung with songs of joy. When the shep- 
herds watched their flocks by night, two thousand years ago 
on the plains of Bethlehem, i The angel of the Lord came upon 
them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them. 
And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold I bring you 
good tidings of great joy, which shall be imlo all people. For 
unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour 
which is Christ the Lord. And suddenly there was with the 
angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and say- 
ing, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, and good- 
will toward man.' 

Oh yes, over the new creation the morning stars sang 
together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy; and you and 
I may touch wires that shall send thrills of joy throughout all 
the heavenly world. To the work, then, and let the people 



SEBMOJSf ON THE LOST SHEEP. 309 

know, that lie that converteth one sinner from the error of his 
way, shall save a soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins. 
It will hardly be necessary for me to bring up many reserves to 
the support of my sections and divisions in my soldier ser- 
mon, but it is customary, I believe, for theologians to put in an 
inference or two in view of the whole subject, and I will bring 
up a reserve thought or two, in support of what has been said. 
1st. ' How much better is a man than a sheep / ' and yet a 
shepherd is justified in leaving the ninety and nine and going 
after the one that has wandered, and when he has found it, 
feels justified not only to be joyful himself, but in calling on 
his neighbors to join him. Oh the value of a human soul ! Oh 
how grand and glorious the privilege of binding up one broken 
heart, of finding one bruised and wounded sheep, and present- 
ing it saved to the great Shepherd. Oh how careful that we 
should not by our coldness, by uncharitableness, drive one of 
these lambs astray. How many are wandering to-day, who 
would have been the happiest lambs in the fold had they been 
dealt kindly with, and encouraged as they should have been. 
How many old Hebrews must ever accuse themselves for the 
sufferings of many who have been discouraged and gone away 
froni the fold. To save yourselves from remorse, go after them 
Take one example : In all the bloom of perfect womanhood, 
ruined by a villain ; and when her father saw her shame, his 
heart grew stone. He drove her forth to want and wintry 
winds, and with a horrid curse forbidding her return. 

1 Upon a hoary cliff that watched the sea 
Her babe was found— dead ; and on its little cheek 
The tear that nature bade it weep had turned 
An ice-drop, sparkling in the morning sun, 
And to the turf its little helpless hands were frozen, 
For she, the woful mother had gone mad, 
And laid it down, regardless of its fate. 
She never spoke of her deceiver, father, mother, home, 
With woe too wide to see beyond, she died. 



310 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 

Not unatoned for by imputed blood, nor by the 
Spirit, that mysterious works. Aloud her father 
Cursed that day, his guilty pride, which would not own 
A daughter, whom the God of heaven and earth 
Was not ashamed to call his own.' 

A second reserve. In this way only can you show that you 
are real Christians and save your own souls. ' By their fruit ye 
shall know them. By this shall all men know that ye are my 
disciples if ye have love one for another.' c Simon, son of Jonas, 
lovest thou me ? Yea, Lord, thou knowest all things, thou 
knowest that I love thee. Feed my sheep.'' I don't know how 
a man can expect to be saved, who does not enter this work. 
Finally, I don't believe a man has ever known the love of God, 
whose heart does not go out after the lost, and feel somewhat 
as the Saviour did, when speaking of his work he said, ' How 
am I straightened until it be accomplished. Beware, oh be- 
ware scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites, hirelings, whose own the 
sheep are not, and who seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the 
sheep and fleeth, and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth 
the sheep, for the day of your reckoning is at hand.' c If the 
watchman see the sword come and blow not the trumpet and 
the people be not warned, if the sword come and take away 
any person from among the people, his blood will I require at 
the watchman's hand.' Comrades, go after the lost sheep. 
Comrades, don't offend the little ones, no matter how weak, 
the more need of help ; no matter how vile they have been, the 
more you should encourage and lead them by the hand. Woe 
unto that man who puts a straw in the way of the dear lamb, 
for it is written, ' Whoso shall offend one of these little ones 
which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone 
were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the 
depths of the sea.' Amen. 

To this work my soul turns, and that I may be permitted to 
enter this field untrammeled is my prayer, that the remnant of 



CONCLUSION. 311 

my days may be employed in bringing from the highways and 
hedges those that are lost, that God's house may be filled. 
Every one that buys a book of mine helps to strike off my 
fetters, and though crippled in body, if I can succeed in freeing 
myself from these bonds of poverty, so to make proclamation 
of God's love to man without being muzzled, and without 
charge when the people are poor, the height of my ambition 
will be reached. 

Dear reader, we have gone over the crooked and strange 
journey of life together, and with many thanks to you for your 
patience in reading these pages, trusting you will be charitable 
toward all my errors, there remains for me only to ask you to 
prepare to meet the Judge of all, if you have not already done 
so, and to say to you, what has been paining me to think of 
saying, lest some word I have forgotten to say ought to be said 
to save some soul from death, that word so often baptized in 
tears and often repeated from trembling, loving lips, good-by. 



APPENDIX 



The following are the names of a few of the numerous ac- 
quaintances I have formed, and friendships I have gained in 
my varied experiences from Maine to Washington, and whose 
autographs I have in my possession. 



Rev. E. K Kirk, D. D. 
Rev. A. L. Stone. 

Rev. Edwards. 

Rev. P. Stowe. 

Rev. Fulton. 

Rev. James F. Clark. 
Rev. I. N. Tarbox. 
S. T. Farwell. 
John B. Gough. 
S. M. Hewlett. 
Russell Sturgis, jr. 
F. B. Wentworth. 
E. G. Tileston. 
B. H. Green. 
James B. Clapp. 

A. B. Dalton. 

B. F. Andrews. 
Thomas Barker. 
Prince & Merrill. 



Kaler, Bowen & Merrill. 
Fred. Kaler. 

D. M. C. Dunn. 
Gill & Sons. 

W. B. Hodgdon.. 
G. Annable. 
A. T. Joy. 

E. M. Brown. 
A. F. Craig. 
J. K. Curtis. 
A. Lord. 

J. Locke. 
J. B. Coyle. 
Pay son Tucker. 
Cyrus Sturdivant. 
A. A. Folsom. 
Wm. Ross. 
Pierpont JSeal. 
Jacob Ambler. 



314 

Augusta Ambler. 

James H. McMullan. 

W. P. Haines. 

C. S. Patten. 

E. P. Morgan. 

J. Moore. 

M. P. Church. 

Edwin Fuller. 

E.>uller. 

S. G. Twambley. 

A. R. Davis. 
T. H. Cole. 

Hon. E. H. Banks. 
E. W. Staples. 
T. L. Merrill. 
G. E. Small. 

B. F. Hamilton. 

C. C. Haskell. 
C. F. Cowan. 
N. O. Kendall. 
James Andrews. 
J. Rhodes. 
Rev. C. Tenney. 
W. G. Gooch. 
O. H. Hobson. 
C. H. Roberts. 
G. Stackpole. ' 
Alfred Goodwin. 
J. H. Small. 

C. H. Goodwin. 
James Knights. 
Henry Hoyt & Son. 
Luther Dana. 
George Hyde. 
Thomas F. Chase. 



APPENDIX. 



Ezra Farnsworth. 
Tyler Batcheller. 
J. F. Burnsted. 
I. P. Lovett. 
C. W. Robinson. 
Timothy Gay. 
G. W. Copeland. 
Isaac F. Dobson. 
Moses Dorr. 
C. C. Favor. 
J. J. Newcomb. 
Thomas W. Nickerson. 

C. S. Evans. 
J. F. McClure. 
Peter Hobart. 
Job Lockwood. 
H. F. Coe. 

S. R. Whipple. 
J. W. Kimball. 
H. S. P. Hill. 
Dea. J. A Palmer. 
Dea. Avery Plummer. 
John Davis, jr. 
Dea. Moses L. Hall. 
Dea. George Punchard. 

E. A. Sanborn. 

F. M. Oliver. 
F. F. Sanborn. 

F. P. Folsom, Dr. 
J. D. A. Reman. 
J. D. W. Rodgers. 

D. A. Hill. 

A. K. P. Hammond. 
J. H. Bailey. 
J. M. Edmonds. 



APPENDIX. 



315 



E. G. Peirce, jr. 
D. J. Vaughan. 
O. Walker. 
A. A. Fernald. 
A. R. H. Fernald. 
R. G. Archibald. 
T. S. No-well. 
J. H. Thacher. 
U. S Chaplin. 
J. J. Kane. 
Eben Brackett. 
J. Stackpole. 
D. Mclntire. 
S. H. Ayers. 
A. Berry. 
G. N". Loomis. 
W. Tuckerman. 
A. M. Payson. 
W. H. Laws. 
C. E. Young. 
S. Daws. 

W. H. Y. Hackett. 
G. W. Adams. 
S. Boynton. 
W. H. Hutchins. 
O. Perkins. 
Isaac Perkins. 
S. H. Pilsbury. 
J. Emons. 
T. D. Locke. 
J. Smith. 
L. Rummery. 
S. T. Rummery, 
J. O. Tarbox. 
G. G. Additon. 



J. M. Deering. 
C. Sweetser. 
Charles Littlefield. 
C. A. Shaw. 
Marshall Pierce. 
M. Smith. 

A. Cutter. 
O. T. Garey. 
P. Smith. 

Rev. J. T. G. Nichols. 
J. E. Palmer. 
James W. Littlefield. 
C. W. Boothby. 
K T. Boothby. 
J. M. Emerson. 
P. C. Sands. 
William Littlefield. 
Joseph Hobson. 
J. R. Foss. 
S. A. Boothby. 
W. R. Littlefield. 

B. F. S. Clark. 
J. Moore. 

H. W. Fenderson. 
T. Mitchell. 
R. W. Smith. 

C. Allen. 

H. W. K. Eastman. 
H. Edgecomb. 
A. L. Corliss. 
J. W. Hodsdon. 
A. C. Buzzell. 
P. L. Lowell. 
A. L. Durgin. 
N. W. Philbrick. 



316 



APPENDIX. 



W. G. Ricker. 
J. Q. Adams. 
C. J. Goodwin. 
E. G. Berry. 
G. W. Piper. 
C. F. Chapman. 
S. W. Seaward. 
E. A. Rummery. 
S. P. Adams. 
A. Jellerson. 
S. Smith. 
J. Moody. 
C. Haley. 

E. Haley. 
J. P. Miller. 
C. Huff. 

Capt. E. A. Fiske, 30th Mass. 

Capt. J. W. Trafton, 27th « 

Capt. E. G. Tutein, 1st Mass. 

Capt. G. Hay ward. 

Capt. J. A. Hill. 

Capt. Ezra Farnsworth, jr. 

Capt. C. H. Hamlen. 

Capt. A. Davis. 

Capt. J. E. Smith. 

Capt. R. B. Henderson. 

Capt. D. W. Hughes. 

Capt. Loyd. 

G. A. Fuller. 

H. E. Merriam. 

A. Carsley. 

F. A. Ladd. 

E. M. Wescott. 

F. A. Sargent. 
Thomas Atkinson, jr. 



S. L. Manson. 
Joseph Smith. 
W. B. Mayhew. 

F. E. Brett. 
S. D. Moody. 

G. R. Carter. 
J. Cheny. 

J. E. Verrill. 

E. H. Braser. 
C. B. Dunforth. 
P. R. Hubbard. 

C. H. Dow. 
Edward Light. 
G. E. Pond. 
A. C. Paul. 

H. W. Littlefield. 

F. E. Bundy. 

G. O. Preston. 

D. F. Wood. 
F. R. Allen. 

F. J. Piffin. 

G. A. Butterfield. 
A. D. George. 

I. W. Morrill. 
1. 1. Kemp. 
W. A. Waugh. 

C. J. Muldory. 

D. B. Kaler. 

E. E. Butterfield. 
W. L. Howard. 
R. L. Merritt. 

A. W. Worthley. 
J. A. Cole. 
C. B. Towles. 
W. S. Rugg. 



APPENDIX. 



317 



A. G. Foss. 

E. A. Pearson. 

O. L. Briggs. 

J. Bailey. 

D. Bilfings. 

T. E. Bower. 

A. R. Paslin. 

J. C. George. 

Orclway Bros. & Co. 

Frank F. Hodges. 

C. A. Gray. 

G. H. Ham. 

Rev. C. M. Dinsmore. 

Rev. C. B. Smith. 

T. Glezbrok. 

A. S". Ross. 

W. Bryant. 

J. P. Sweetser. 

T. Entwistle. 

C. O. Walker. 

D. Rodrick. 

F. S. Roberts. 
M. R. Hall. 

S. G. Hooper. 
John Dame. 

G. B. Foss. 
J. T. Taylor. 
I. H. Farr. 

E. J. Fenderson. 
J. H. Glines. 

S. C. Carter. 
J. H. Slater. 
C. H. Sides. 
J. H. Thacher. 
George Taylor. 



C. Davis. 

D. Kimball. 
M. Lord. 

Geo. W. Tawle. 
J. A. Rand. 
J. A. Sanborn. 
J. Sanborn. 
Dr. Richardson. 
A. J. Lord. 
S. N. Brown, jr. 
G. Towle. 
A. A. Childs. 
James Parker. 

E. S. Tobey. 
W. G. Birchnell. 
O. Elsworth. 

J. A. Dix. 
Cheney & Co. 
J. W. Coolidge. 
Charles Smith. 
E. D. Peters. 
H. C. Thacher. 
Alex. Side. 
T. A. Goddard. 
M. Ayer. 
T. L. Smith. 
Dea. Abiel Abbott. 
Moses Grant. 
A. C. Staples. 
O. A. Tarbox. 
M. Anderson. 
J. Webber. 
T. Willard. 
R. B. Adams. 
R. F. Charles. 



318 



APPENDIX. 



P. W. Rummery. 
W. B. Pierce. 
W. F. Berry.. 
L. Berry. 

B. A. Hinerson. 
J. C. Libbey. 

G. W. Andrews. 
J. P. Hill. 
G. L. Libbey. 
W. Andrews. 

C. C. Gilpatrick. 
J. M. Knapp. 

T. W. Kaler. 

W. P. Hall. 

S. M. Johnson. 

R. K. Twambley & Son. 

A. Hodsdon. 

Mark Watson. 

Gen. B. F. Butler. 

J. W. Barrows. 

C. K MeCollough. 
S. H. Milliken. 

D. Evans. 
A. G. Lane. 
Gen. Mott. 

Ichabod Goodwin, ex-Gov. 

C. G. Pickering. 

George Thompson. 

H. M. Thompson. 

John Eldyn. 

C. C. Jackson. 

M. Smith. 

E. W. Marden. 
C. E. Plaisted. 
Capt. C. D. Hanscom. 



Capt. M. F. Betton. 
E. Putnam. 
Geo. W. Marston. 
J. H. Cheever. 
E. H. Leslie. 
W. W. Henderson. 

E. Rees. 
T. Stewart. 

F. Forsom. 

C. A. Henderson. 
H. D. Walker. 
H. Melson^ 

D. B. Macomb. 

A. F. Crosman. 

C. H. Joy. 
P. Durkee. 

J. D. Piceacer. 

D. W. Adams. 
M. H. Bell. 

Rev. L. L. Harmon. 
L. H. Collins. 

B. E. Cutter. 
J. M. Goodwin. 
W. F. Lunt. 

E. F. Pilsbury. 
L. T. Mason. 

G. N". Weymouth. 

A. Cutter. 
W. Hill. 
N. Hill. 
John Etchells. 

C. W. Foss. 
O. F. Page. 

B. Goodyear. 
A. K. Cleaves. 



APPENDIX. 



319 



E. W. Wedgwood. 

J. Goodyear. 

Dr. S. L. Loomis. 

E. Carter. 

R. Rutter. 

A. Coffin. 

J. E. Butler. 

N. Smith. 

A. W. Mooney. 

J. L. Hunt. 

R. Fulton. 

J. B. Holderby. 

Mrs. O. Hobson. 

Mrs. C. E. Sawyer. 

Rev. J. D. Emerson. 

Rev. W. J. Alger. 

H. S. Hall. 

P. Hobart, jr. 

E. Stone. 

H. Loring. 

J. Anderson. 



C. Hardy. 

I. Carter. 

J. Etchells. 

Dr. H. Bacon. 

Dr. A. Bacon. 

L. Harmond. 

Benj. Kingsbury, jr. 

Capt. J. O. Lord. 

Judge Odell. 

E. Stanwood. 

J. Post. 

J. F. Stearns. 

Maj. P. Chadbourn. 

J. Andrews. 

J. H. Fogg. 

O. T. Garey. 

R. Small. 

C. K. Lunt. 

Dr. T. Haley. 

E. Wheeler. 

A. Sands. 



